Blue Would Still Be Blue
by WinterStorrm
Summary: When widower Arthur Pendragon finds out that his children have conspired to help him find 'someone to kiss' by placing an ad on a dating site, he allows his guilt to push him into agreeing even though he doesn't believe in 'love'. However, someone does set his heart racing, but it's not one of the beautiful women he has to choose from, it's the children's new babysitter, Merlin.
1. Chapter 1 of 4

**Title:** Blue Would Still Be Blue  
**Pairing: **Arthur/Merlin  
**Rating**: NC-17  
**Word Count**: 32,000  
**Warnings**: Age difference.  
**Disclaimer: **The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. I make no profit from this endeavour. Credit also to Harlequin for the borrowed blurb.  
**Author's Notes:** Written for Paperlegends 2012. Beta read by singlemomsummer, edited since, mistakes all mine.

A few months ago when I was modding **hp_harlequin** fest and chasing prompts, **tama_abi **told me she would rather read Harlequin Arthur/Merlin and foolishly I said I'd love to write that and challenged her to find me a book blurb she'd like to see written. She gave me a book blurb (kid!fic, oh no!) - at which point I immediately regretted offering! Still, my word is my bond, and I soon came round to the idea and planned to write this as a chaptered fic. However, when my original idea for **paperlegends** didn't seem to want to be written and my second choice looked set to turn into a 200k epic that I didn't have time for, I decided to write the story for this challenge instead. Here is the result!

Although this is fic is based on a Harlequin book blurb, I have not read the book, so any other similarity is a coincidence and I adapted the prompt to my purposes before I started writing. I set out to write what I hope is something in the Harlequin/Mills & Boon vein, but though I confess to devouring Mills & Boon books in my youth, I haven't been near one in years so I have no idea if this fic comes anywhere close!  
This is meant to be light-hearted romance. It won't change your life but hopefully it will make you smile.

**Summary:** When widower Arthur Pendragon finds out that his three children have conspired to help him find 'someone to kiss' by placing an ad on an internet dating site, he allows his guilt to push him into agreeing to go on a succession of dates even though he's determined that he's _not_ lonely and doesn't believe in 'love'. However, someone does set his heart racing, but it's not one of the endless parade of beautiful women he has to choose from, it's the children's new babysitter, Merlin.

**: o : o :**

When Arthur received the first email he thought it was spam. He deleted it with an annoyed click of the mouse and slammed his laptop closed. He didn't have time to waste and emails entitled 'I can make you feel good' were probably not something he wanted to read at work, or—ever.

He grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and headed into the outer office where from the sounds of it Gwen was busy placating a stressed out patient who wanted an appointment _right now_. "Have you got the clinic notes ready?" he asked and without even turning around, Gwen reached for the foolscap folder on the desk beside her and handed it to him.

Gwen was scarily efficient and he had never once regretted giving her the job as his PA when Morgana had pleaded with him to offer her old university friend an interview last year— or rather Morgana had asked and Arthur owed her several favours—and he'd felt obliged despite not feeling all that comfortable employing a friend and Gwen's CV did not looking very healthy amongst the hundred or so other applicants for the position. Yet, she'd shone in the interview and Arthur had had no qualms in taking her on. His office now ran like clockwork and he often wondered how he had coped before; his previous PA, Sophia, has spent more time flirting with him than she had doing any actual work and Arthur had often thought that she should be paying him, not the other way around. When she'd handed in her notice, telling Arthur that she wanted to work somewhere more exciting, he'd barely managed to restrain himself from punching the air and shouting, 'yes!'

"I'll be back in time for my one-thirty with Mr Forbes," he said and without waiting for a reply—because after all Gwen _was_ on the phone—he headed down the long corridor to the end office and knocked gently.

He heard the answering summons and opened the door. "Morning, Leon," he said, nodding at his best friend who was tapping away on a laptop at a desk in the centre of the room. "Have you had chance to look at Mr Craven's notes yet?"

"Sorry, Arthur, I haven't," Leon replied, glancing up at Arthur with a harassed expression. "After what happened yesterday with Mrs Jensen…"

"Of course, I'd forgotten about that," Arthur said and slumped into the chair opposite Leon's desk and rubbed the back of his neck tiredly. "I've been a little distracted these last few days, I'm sorry." When was the last time he'd taken a holiday? Probably over a year ago and even then it had only been a long weekend. He'd never been very good at relaxing.

"Yes, well, you have had a lot on your plate, Arthur. I don't know how you manage it all."

Arthur circled his neck and stood again. "Sometimes, Leon, neither do I." He went to the door and turned back. "If I don't see you here later, see you tonight for dinner, yes?" It was Wednesday; Leon almost always came for dinner on Wednesdays—a tradition from their uni days of sharing a house that hadn't died despite all the years that had passed.

"Wouldn't miss it," Leon said with a fond smile that Arthur returned before sliding out the door and heading through reception and taking the lift down to the car park.

As he settled behind the wheel of his stupidly huge 4x4 his mind slipped back to that email, 'Dear Arthur, I'm writing to you in response to your advert…' He certainly hadn't placed any adverts, but he was starting to get a very bad feeling that he might know who had.

**: o : o :**

Arthur felt exhausted when he arrived back at the office just after one o'clock. His NHS clinics always had that effect on him—probably the way they crammed in way more patients than he would ever see in the same timeframe in his own practice. They liked to get their money's worth out of him that was for sure. All he wanted to do now was loosen his tie, kick off his shoes and grab half-an-hour on the sofa in his office. In fact, that was what exactly what he intended to do…

"Sorry to drop this on you the moment you walk in but the school called," Gwen said as soon as he opened the door to his outer office and Arthur's heart sank. "Theo's been in another fight and they wanted you to collect him as soon as possible. When I couldn't get you on your mobile I called Lance and he's gone to pick him up and will keep him for the rest of the day."

Arthur's mobile was still in his office where he'd foolishly left it that morning in his rush to get to the clinic on time…along with his brain it seemed. For someone who made his living as a Consultant Neurologist that was not a good thing!

"Oh God," he groaned. "What is it with that kid?" He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms and resigned himself to not getting that nap, and probably not getting any sleep ever again.

Gwen's expression was sympathetic. "He's ten years old, Arthur. It's what they do at that age."

Arthur knew that better than most. Hell, he had been far worse at that age himself. Rarely a day had gone by when he hadn't been in some kind of fight with one of the other kids at school. He must've driven Uther insane, something Arthur was only now coming to appreciate now that he was the father of a ten year old boy himself. He just couldn't understand why Theo was behaving like that. For Arthur it had been—he knew this now with hindsight—a clear cry for attention. It hadn't worked. Uther had simple plucked him out of the local private school and sent him to board elsewhere; out of sight and definitely out of mind.

It was times like this that Arthur missed Helen the most. It had been seven years since he'd lost her, but sometimes that felt like nothing more than a blink of an eye. One moment they'd been bringing home their third child from the hospital, Helen swearing that she was never going through that again—just as she had sworn the same after the first two—then just a few short months later she had been dead, hit by a drunk driver on her way back from the shops one Saturday afternoon leaving Arthur a widower and their three children without a mother.

If it hadn't been for Morgana and his friends, Arthur would never have coped in those first few months. Sometimes he wondered how he had managed—three children under the age of five—yet here he was, years later, still going. Somehow the all three kids were all healthy and more or less undamaged—he hoped—and the world hadn't come to an end, it had just stopped for a while.

"I'd better go and ring Lance," he said with a weary sigh, heading to his office, "Gwen, any chance of a coffee?"

"Office coffee or hazelnut latte from Costa?" she asked, getting to her feet and Arthur heard her shrug on her jacket, clearly having anticipated Arthur's reply.

"Costa please," he called over his shoulder.

Arthur sank into his office chair and switched on his laptop. His mobile was where he'd left it, proudly advertising eight missed calls. He scrolled to Lance's number and leant backwards with his eyes closed. If he could just stay like this for a few minutes maybe this would rejuvenate him enough…

As he waited for Lance to pick up, he opened his emails and gaped when he saw there were twenty new ones, all proclaiming to be from – what the bloody fuck was going on?

**: o : o :**

"Alright you three," Arthur said when he got home that evening. He'd shed his suit jacket and tie and was faced with three all too innocent expressions regarding him from the dining table where they were sitting with Lance and Leon. He could hear Mary bustling around in the kitchen and his stomach rumbled—he'd skipped lunch and was only held together by caffeine and a mid-afternoon Cadbury's Cream Egg. "Which one of you is going to tell me what's going on?"

"We don't know what you mean, Dad," said his eldest, Florence, who was clearly the self-nominated spokesperson.

"Hmm," Arthur sat down and poured himself some orange juice from the jug in the centre of the table. "So none of you know anything about a personal ad on a website called okcupid?" He raised an eyebrow at his daughter who at least had the good grace to look guilty.

"We don't want you to be lonely anymore, Daddy!" Libby blurted, earning herself a loud "shh" from Theo and a hissed "Libby!" from Florence.

Arthur shot a worried look at Leon and Lance before turning his attention back to his children. "What makes you think I'm lonely?" He wasn't _lonely_; he didn't have time to be. "I've got the three of you, Aunt Morgana, Uncle Gwaine, Uncle Leon, Uncle Lance and Aunt Gwen—that's more than enough people around me—too many I'd wager."

"But you don't have anybody to kiss," Libby argued solemnly, her lower lip wobbling. "And sometimes when you think we don't notice you look so sad, Daddy, like you're going to cry."

"Hey," Arthur stood and rounded the table to where his youngest child sat and hunkered down in front of her. "Daddy's not lonely or sad, sweetheart; you don't need to worry about me okay?" He reached out and tucked a strand of golden blonde hair behind her ear and kissed her nose.

He turned to Florence. "You understand don't you, Flo?" The look she gave him from shrewd hazel eyes was one of scepticism, but she was very protective of her little sister, and Arthur knew she would agree for her sake and then probably challenge him about it later.

"Yes, Dad," she said leaning forwards, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his neck. Arthur hugged her tight. His first born was the spitting image of Helen, all dark brown hair and eyes, feisty and loyal. The other two were all him.

Mary chose that moment to burst in pushing a serving trolley. "Alright then, here we go," she boomed, unloading steaming dishes of vegetables onto the middle of the table.

Arthur stood, relieved for the interruption and settled back in his seat. He'd worry more about this later, when the kids were in bed and he had time to digest the fact that they knew, they could see how he really was inside. He wouldn't say he was lonely, per se, would he? True, there hadn't been anyone else since Helen—no one more than odd nights when he was away on business trips at least—he didn't need anyone. He never really had. He didn't believe in _love_.

Or should that be, he didn't believe that that kind of love—like Gwen and Lance had found in one glance only last year—would ever come to him?

Yes, he'd loved Helen, very much, but he'd never been _in love_ with her, whatever that meant. They'd been childhood friends; Helen's father was Uther's business partner and they'd grown up together. They'd always known they would probably get married and neither one of them had really minded. Arthur had never met anyone who set his pulse racing and his heart on fire like he'd been led to believe _love_ did to a person. He supposed it was a fair assumption to say that he and Helen had been best friends. He'd never lied to her; she knew everything about him, like how he fancied blokes as well as women—they'd spent many a happy hour in their teens sitting in pubs and cafés admiring men's arses together.

She'd suggested he go out and experiment whilst he was at uni and Arthur had, but he hadn't swayed from his desire to marry her, and they'd visited one another regularly, stayed as close as they had always been—by unspoken agreement they never discussed any of Arthur's experiments and Arthur knew Helen had to have had a few of her own. He'd never regretted any of it.

He looked at his children now as they tucked into their meal, three little people who were solely reliant on him, until Theo said, "So, Dad, are you going to go out with some of the email ladies?"

Arthur set down his fork, the chicken going dry in his mouth. He swallowed and said, "I don't think I've got time—what with work and you kids, I'm a busy man."

"You're not busy in the evenings," Theo pointed out pragmatically. "We'd be okay if you went out on dates, wouldn't we Flo?"

Florence nodded eagerly. "I can babysit," she said. "Or Aunty Morgana can or Aunty Gwen-"

"You're too young," Arthur said. "And it isn't fair of you to start volunteering people when they're not here, now is it?"

"But, Dad—"

"No, Florence," Arthur said firmly.

"I think they have a point," Lance said, earning himself a glare from Arthur. "When are you going to start living again? It's been nearly eight years."

"I'm thirty-seven, I'm not dead yet," Arthur replied, feeling his exhaustion return. "And I don't need anybody!"

He turned to Leon for support but found his friend's gaze to be one of knowing sympathy. Arthur started to feel like hunter's prey.

"Fine," he said, just wanting to escape. "I'll consider it."

He didn't miss Florence nudging Theo with an elbow and mouthing, "I knew it."

**: o : o :**

Arthur had fully intended to 'consider' and then decide that in fact, he would go with 'no thank you'. He didn't want to go out on dates. If he wanted sex, he could do what he usually did, and that certainly did not involve any kind of dating, just two people on the same page wanting the same thing somewhere very far away from here. If it had been a while since he had even done that then it was just because he'd not been away on any conferences lately. There was one coming up in a few weeks and he fully intended to make use of his hotel suite for the duration of his stay. It was safe, away from his home and the children, and that's how he wanted it to remain.

Unfortunately, Arthur's intentions didn't always work out in the way he would like, and on this occasion the odds were stacked so highly against him that he had little choice than to give in.

The day after the emails starting trickling through an article appeared in The Guardian entitled 'Has the Pendragon heir turned to internet dating to find love?'; How the hell they had found out Arthur had no idea, but find out they had. Arthur was the only son of the late Uther Pendragon and the holder of seventy-five percent of the Pendragon-Singer shares—and as such he didn't entirely escape the media's attention even if his lack of gossip-worthy behaviour wasn't exactly headline material. It seemed that someone somewhere had been doing their homework because Arthur had taken down the Okcupid profile the night before; once Florence had finally divulged the password.

Gwen spent most of her time that morning fielding phone calls from journalists and there were a distressing number of new female patients requesting appointments, ones who hadn't like being told exactly how much an appointment with Arthur would hit them in the pocket. Undoubtedly there would be one or two who slipped through, but if they wanted to pay Arthur's fee only to be turned away when Arthur told them he wasn't interested then that was up to them.

The following day his email inbox started to go crazy with emails that people were writing to his business email address because a couple of the other broadsheets ran the story and more women thought they would try their luck with him. He was only thankful that he wasn't interesting enough for The Sun to report about; yet.

That was when Gwen stuck her head in during a break in appointments and said, "I don't think the press are going to back off. I think you should give an interview."

Arthur blinked, surprised; he hadn't expected that from Gwen. "But—"

"I've come to know you well, Arthur," Gwen said gently, coming into the office and sitting down in the chair in front of his desk. "You're going to do this for the children, I know you are; but the press aren't just going to go away."

Gwen was also right. Arthur _had_ decided he was going to attempt to go on a few dates with some of the women who had contacted him—he hadn't realised how his behaviour might have been affecting the children and if making this effort now, even if it was for show, turned that around even slightly then it would be worth it.

What was the worst that could happen anyway? Let the press follow him if they wanted, he couldn't stop that, but he wasn't about to invite them in.

"No chance. Let them speculate," he said. "They'll get bored soon enough when they realise I'm actually as boring as they thought I was."

**: o : o :**

"Okay, you win!" Arthur declared at dinner that night when they were all seated at the table—the three children and Morgana who just invited herself to dinner as she so often did. He was ninety-five percent certain that he was going to regret this decision, but his mind was made up. "I'll go on a date."

Florence and Theo had been oddly quiet about the whole thing since the other night, but Arthur knew they were just biding their time before they staged another attack—they were Pendragons and that's what Pendragons did, Arthur could hardly hold it against them. Libby, too young for strategy, had barely left him alone today clinging to his side from the moment he got home, telling him she didn't want him to be lonely and if he had been having any doubts then that had firmed his resolution. "I'm going to do it, I'm going to try this dating thing and see what happens. I'm making no promises though, so don't any of you buy a hat just yet."

Three wide eyed faces turned towards him with equally matching smug grins. Morgana smirked and said, "Good for you, Arthur." She turned and winked at her nieces and nephew.

"You say that, Morgana, but if I'm going to be out dating every other night I'm going to need someone to babysit." He flashed his smuggest smile and helped himself to more potatoes.

"Sorry, Arthur, I won't be able to do very much of that over the coming weeks because I'll be in Edinburgh, remember?" As soon as she said it Arthur recalled her saying as much the other week—she was guest lecturing at the university there for a few weeks.

"Then I'll have to put off the dating until you get back," Arthur said feeling an overwhelming sense of relief and hoping the kids would lose interest in the meantime.

"No you won't," Morgana said in her no-nonsense voice. "That's just a poor excuse. I know someone who is looking for some extra income, and you've been talking about getting someone in to help out after school anyway, you know it's not fair on Mary to expect her to mind the kids every day now that Miranda has left. I'll bring him over tomorrow, shall I?"

Arthur blinked, rapidly trying to think of an excuse. "How do I know I can trust this person with the children?" After all, there were lots of horror stories around. "I am capable of finding my own staff you know; I'm not just here to keep your friends out of the dole queue."

Morgana rolled her eyes and ignored Arthur's whining, waving away his objection. "I was right about Gwen wasn't I? And Merlin wouldn't hurt a fly, the kids will love him, trust me. Besides, he's not just my student, he's Gaius' nephew."

Arthur scowled but didn't object. Gaius had been a much respected old family friend, one who had known his mother—had been the only person ever to answer any of his questions about her when his father had refused to discuss anything about her when Arthur had dared to ask. He vaguely recalled Gaius having a nephew who had come to live with him in the last few years of his life but he had never met him and in his head the boy was still a child. Obviously somewhere along the line the child had grown up.

"Fine," he said, knowing there really was little point in arguing. "Bring him over." If he didn't like the look of this Merlin kid when Morgana introduced him then he'd find something wrong with him and make an excuse. The truth was that Arthur _did_ need someone to help out. He'd had a local woman coming in the last couple of years, and Mary was always willing to step in should more help be required, but Miranda's husband had got a job in Birmingham and she had to leave, and since then Arthur had been 'making do'. Before Libby had started school he'd had a daytime nanny, but when she'd had to leave he'd not replaced her either. He'd never liked that he had to leave the children with someone as it was. He'd never wanted to be the kind of father Uther had been—the person who dished out the orders and the expectations but never backed it up with any affection, and certainly never spent time with his children.

"Dad, which girl are you going to go out with first?" Theo asked eagerly after a couple of minutes of awkward silence in which the only sounds were the scraping of cutlery against crockery and chewing.

"Can we help you pick?" Florence joined in. "She has to like fun things and stuff—no offence Dad but you need loosening up."

Arthur knew he was doomed when his twelve year old was coming out with terminology like that; the kids obviously spent far too much time with their Aunt Morgana. "I'll print out the all the replies," he said, weary, hoping that there would be at least a few who weren't offering to make him 'feel good'.

What the hell had he got himself into?

"I'll do it, Dad," Theo offered eagerly, pushing his chair back from the table and hopping down. "Um—that is if I may be excused please?"

Arthur smiled fondly. They were good kids, his three. Well behaved—at least most of the time, when not fighting in playgrounds—polite, and very loving. He'd done something right somewhere. He always made sure they all ate together in the evening when he was home in time, which was three or four nights a week, and always at the weekends.

"No, I'll do it," he said, thinking of the possible need to censor them before they could be viewed by ten year old eyes. "Make sure you do your homework now, Theo, and we'll look at the emails tomorrow okay?"

The other two excused themselves and followed Theo, presumably to ignore their homework in favour discussing future bloody wives for Arthur. Still, it was Friday night so there was plenty of time for their homework if it didn't get done tonight.

"You're loving this aren't you?" he huffed at Morgana when it was just the two of them left at the table.

"You know me too well," she said, and innocently added, "Who do you think planted the seed, and helped them set up a profile on the website?"

"Oh God, Morgana, whatever for? I don't need a girlfriend, wife or anything in between!" Arthur felt too tired to argue but ploughed on, "I work long hours, I come home to make sure my children see me, and then what do you think I do with my evenings—I work some more when they are in bed! I don't have _time _for anything else."

"Perhaps you should make time, Arthur! Your children love you and they've been worried about you being alone for a long time, especially Libby. They just want to see you happy that's all, because say what you want, but I know you, and I know you're lonely even if you won't admit it."

"I—"

"No one's asking you to marry any of these women," Morgana continued. "Give it a try—at least then you can say it didn't work out. This is for the kids' sake. It'll do you good just to go out when it's not for business and not with me or your friends."

"I like going out with Gwen and Lance," Arthur argued, trying to remember the last time he even did that.

"Yes, I know you do, but you never go anywhere that you might meet someone."

"I sometimes go to the pub with Leon and Gwaine."

"Oh, and which pub do you frequent? Is it one of those trendy London bars where the hot young things hang out?" The tone of Morgana's voice made it clear she already knew the answer.

Arthur shifted in his seat. "No, it's The King's Head," he said quietly. He made a point of avoiding the trendy after work bars that Morgana referred to in favour of the back street pub where they enjoyed a game or two of pool and chatted to the locals, average age seventy-six.

"Yes, The King's _Dead_ as everyone else calls it," Morgana scorned. "I rest my case."

"Okay, you've already won, there's no need to labour the point. I've said I'll go on a bloody date." He folded his arms and glared at Morgana who of course stared right back at him until it was he who looked away. "You've got a nerve you know, you're as single as I am!"

"I'm working on it though, Arthur, unlike you."

Arthur couldn't really argue with that either.

**: o : o :**

On Saturday morning Arthur spent a couple of hours in the pool with the children, determined to put off looking at the 'short-list' of women he'd printed off to choose his first date from for as long as possible. Unfortunately this meant that he was still in his swimming trunks when Morgana swept into the pool room with a tall dark haired young man on her tail.

A tall young man that was staring at him open-mouthed, his wide blue eyes trailing down Arthur's near naked form before seemingly realising what he was doing and snapping his mouth shut, blushing. Arthur felt a twinge in his lower stomach at the perusal and immediately felt guilty. The kid was eighteen if he was a day, and he was pretty—but, yes, he was at least half Arthur's age.

Presumably this was Merlin.

Arthur reached for a towel and tied it around waist. "You're early," he accused Morgana for the want of saying something to distract himself. He turned towards the pool, "You three, upstairs, shower and dressed please."

"I'm actually dead on time, dearest brother," Morgana drawled, waving at the children as they clambered out of the pool, grabbed towels from the side and flew past with a chorus of 'hello, Aunty Morgana!', "You remember we agreed I would bring Merlin to meet you today don't you?"

"Well, I had been hoping to be wearing more clothes when it happened, but of course I bloody remember," Arthur complained tightly, feeling immensely uncomfortable. "If you give me ten minutes to shower and dress I'll meet you in the living room?"

"What you mean is 'put the coffee on'," Morgana joked, unfazed by Arthur's brusque tone. "No problem. Come on, Merlin, we're making Arthur blush."

Arthur glanced at Merlin again, noting that his sharp cheekbones were still stained red and said without thinking, "I'm not the only one." His reward was more redness rushing up Merlin's pale neck and settling there as Merlin endeavoured to look anywhere but at Arthur. It was cruel, but Arthur _was_ looking for an excuse not to hire the kid after all.

He turned away and made for the stairs that led up the bedrooms leaving Morgana and her guest to return up the other staircase to the hall. As he left he heard Merlin say, "Wow, this place is magical."

Morgana's response of, "It is rather, isn't it?" made Arthur smile, despite his mood. He did love his house. It was a proud mixture of old and new, an old listed building that felt like it was in the middle of nowhere despite being in the heart of London. It had been falling into disrepair when he had fallen in love with it the year after Helen's death. He had taken on as a distraction—not that he'd had the time really, not whilst he was in the middle of his second foundation year and well on the way to his speciality training. He'd hired the best architects and floated past planning because of it, and now the house lived again. He knew it might seem slightly ostentatious to some, but this was his home and he didn't care what people thought. Still, hearing someone call it _magical_ actually made him feel pride at what he'd done with the place.

He took the quickest shower in history and was back downstairs in the living room in just a few seconds over the ten minutes he'd specified. Morgana and Merlin were settled in front of the coffee table where a large cafetiere and three mugs waited. There was no sign of the children but Arthur could hear them stomping about upstairs. The family cat, Dave, was sitting on Merlin's lap purring with loud contentment. Arthur gritted his teeth; that damned cat hated strangers, but apparently Merlin was the exception.

"I see you've met Dave," Arthur said, going to the bookcase to grab a packet of biscuits from behind an old set of encyclopaedias and placing them in the middle of the table before sitting down next to Merlin at the opposite end of the sofa as Morgana had taken the armchair.

Merlin grinned sunnily, his face coming alive. He rubbed under Dave's chin and the cat's purr doubled in volume. "He's gorgeous, aren't you, Dave?" Arthur was pleased to note he didn't do that baby talk thing that people so often did when talking to animals. Dave stretched happily and snuggled deeper into Merlin's lap.

"I didn't introduce you properly before," Morgana said. "This is Merlin, he's… What are you, Merlin?" Merlin shrugged, still smiling. "I was Merlin's tutor for his dissertation last year and we've become good friends—which is why I'd trust him with the children, Arthur."

Arthur narrowed his eyes. What kind of 'friend'? He wasn't about to enter business of employing Morgana's toy-boys. Just because she hadn't met 'the one' yet didn't mean she was celibate.

"Not like that you idiot," Morgana said with a roll of her eyes, seeing right through him like she always did. "Merlin's a genius when it comes to plants. Anything Merlin doesn't know about them isn't worth knowing."

"Don't believe a word of it, Arthur, I only let her believe that because I'm scared of her," Merlin joked, sticking his tongue out at Morgana and receiving a fond look in return. Arthur watched him in surprise. It was a rare talent was the ability to mock Morgana and live. He turned to Arthur. "I know you wouldn't want to leave your children with just anyone so I'd understand if you said no, whatever the reason."

That was Arthur's way out of this right there, but instead of saying so, he said, "The kids should be down in a bit—after you meet them properly you might not be so keen anyway."

"Morgana's told me a lot about them, and I met them briefly at the farm a couple of weeks ago," Merlin said. "They sound great to me—although I suppose Morgana is biased in their favour, much beloved nieces and nephew and all that."

"I make no excuses," Morgana said with a smile. "But don't forget I have another nephew with Morgause and there is no bias there when I say _he_ is a demon."

"How is the lovely Morgause?" Arthur drawled, suppressing a shudder. There was certainly no love lost between him and his sister's sister and her son, Mordred. For a while, back in their teenage years when Morgana had hated everything and everyone she had fled home to live with Morgause—the sister she hadn't known she had until she was seventeen—and the already strained relationship between Morgana and their father had never fully recovered.

"Having an affair with her teenage gardener is how she is. She hit forty last year and has turned into a crazy cougar woman. Cenred's away a lot and Hans is there every day, shirtless—even in February—it's like a bad episode of 'Desperate Housewives'."

Arthur had never seen that show but he could imagine how that scenario might play out.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of his offspring. "Dad, can we look at these replies now?" Theo asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor at the head of the coffee table and placing a sheaf of papers in front of Arthur—last seen on Arthur's desk in his study. Libby bounced over to him and curled herself into his side, and Florence sat down between her and Merlin.

Arthur had hoped they had forgotten about this, but he should have known that was wishful thinking. "I don't see why not. First though, there's someone I'd like you to meet—this is Merlin."

Merlin gave a half wave and all of the children politely chorused, "Hello, Merlin."

"How would you feel if Merlin picked you up from school like Miranda used to, and stayed here with you when I go on one of these…dates?"

All of the children immediately chorused agreement. "We met him before when we went to Aunt Morgana's farm," Florence said in a tone that indicated her words should be suffixed with a, 'duh'—as though Arthur should have known this, which he supposed was what Merlin had meant by meeting them at the farm the other week. They loved going to Morgana's farm—although 'farm' didn't really do the place justice: it was used by the university for the students studying plant science, as a Care Farm for people with learning difficulties, recovering addicts, people with disabilities, it had a farm shop and a café that was run by volunteers. The place had won that many awards that Morgana had probably run out of room to display then. Arthur was certain at least one of the children would follow in her footsteps. He also hoped one of them might have a liking for business—Uther had taken both his and Morgana's lack of interest in going into the family business far more good naturedly than he had expected considering their upbringing. Still, seventy-five percent of Pendragon-Singer was his—and fifty percent of that had been Helen's share from her. The remaining twenty-five percent was Morgana's.

Neither of them was particularly interested in the business and after Uther's death had kept it in the hands of a Managing Director, Gwaine Heath, the man who had worked his way up to Uther's second-in-command after getting a job with him upon leaving university. Gwaine had had a knack of standing up to Uther when others would have cowed—it had earned him Uther's trust and respect.

"Merlin does magic tricks, he pulled a flower from my ear," Libby said proudly. "It was pink."

Arthur glanced at Merlin who looked uncomfortable. "I'd love to see that," he said, curious. Would Merlin have come rigged up with fake flowers tucked away up his sleeve today?

"Libby, what colour flower would you like?" Merlin asked, leaning forward so he could see her better.

"Purple!" Libby squirmed excitedly and jumped down from the sofa to come and stand in front of Merlin. Dave stirred on Merlin's lap, opened one annoyed eye, and settled back down again. Merlin grinned, reached out to Libby's ear, and came back with a purple flower in his hand which he handed to her with a flourish.

"Wow," she said. "Look, Daddy!"

Arthur was impressed. It was an old and probably easy trick and Merlin had made it look effortless, and his daughter was in awe. "Florence, do you want one too?" Merlin asked.

Florence was clearly trying not to look interested, too old for this childish nonsense, but Arthur could see she wanted Merlin to produce a flower for her too. "Yellow please," she said eventually and Merlin immediately complied. Florence squirmed when she accepted it, still trying not to look excited by a magic trick because that wouldn't be cool. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Merlin said. He turned to Theo, who was watching him in fascination and winked. Theo grinned back.

Arthur had to concede that Merlin was probably going to be popular with his brood. In fact, even on this brief acquaintance he couldn't think of a real objection to saying yes. There was something about him. Also, if he was one of Morgana's dissertation students then he had to be at least twenty which was…better than the eighteen he had assumed upon meeting him.

"Well, Merlin," Arthur said. "I think we can come to some arrangement if you're still willing."

"Thank you, Arthur, that would be great," Merlin said, breaking into a smile, their eyes meeting, and for a moment, Arthur forgot to breathe. Bloody _hell_ his eyes were the bluest Arthur had ever seen and that smile…

"Can we look at the replies now, Dad?" Florence asked, dragging Arthur's attention away from Merlin and Theo began to bounce up and down in excitement, picking up the sheaf of paper and waving it in the air.

"Dad, we had a look at the ones you printed," Theo began. Arthur had only printed the replies that arrived before the story hit the press, in the hope that those would be more genuine. "There was forty-seven of those and we've picked out nine that we like."

Arthur tried not to groan. "Nine, Theo? I hope you don't think I'm going to go out with them all?"

"Daddy, you promised," Libby whined. "It's okay though, cos you might like the first one and marry her."

"I'm not promising to marry anyone, sweetheart," Arthur said, wondering again how he had got himself into this. He'd married their mother all those years ago because he'd never seen his life going any other way and now his children wanted him to marry again—would he go that far to make them happy? He didn't think so—they said they wanted him to be happy, and getting married again wasn't the key to that, but he knew they would benefit from having another parent, but it was what it was, this was his life—he'd do what he could, he'd go on a couple of dates and see what happened, but he didn't think he'd be finding the second Mrs Arthur Pendragon!

"Okay then, let's have them," Arthur said, holding out a hand to Theo who thrust the wad of potential candidates at him.

Ten minutes later and he'd agreed to arrange a date with a pretty brunette named Nimueh Rivers and Morgana, Libby and Florence were all discussing what he should wear like he wasn't there. He turned to Merlin and mouthed, "Help," and was rewarded with that smile again. He groaned inwardly; an attraction to his kids' babysitter was the last thing he needed. Suddenly this date couldn't come fast enough.

**: o : o :**

The last time Arthur had been on a 'date' he'd been seventeen and Jazzy Jeff and The Fresh Prince had been at number one. It had been in that month when he and Helen had had a huge falling out—the only one they'd ever had—and Arthur couldn't even remember now what it had been about, but it had been enough to break them up, both of them swearing they didn't want anything to do with one another ever again.

His date—Arthur had no idea what her name had been—had been keen and Arthur had been determined to show Helen that he didn't care that they'd broken up so he'd taken his date to the cinema to see Indecent Proposal and afterwards they'd gone for pizza. He'd walked her home, she'd invited him in for coffee and he'd been on the receiving end of an awkward blow job before they'd heard her parent's car on the drive and Arthur had been unceremoniously shoved out the back door thanking his lucky stars that he was still fully dressed.

They hadn't gone out again. A few days after that, he'd gone to see Helen and they'd made up and a few months later had gone to uni and begun a couple of years of 'experimenting'. He'd married Helen in the year after she'd graduated with a degree in fine art, he'd been twenty-three with many more years of studying ahead of him, but they hadn't seen any point in waiting. They'd both sown their wild oats so to speak and Arthur felt no jealousy towards anyone Helen might have been with.

It had been a huge frilly white wedding with all the pomp and circumstance that went with it. Helen's father had insisted upon it and Helen hadn't wanted to disagree, not when he'd been in such poor health at the time. He'd died less than six months after the wedding and had never met any of his grandchildren.

As it was though, he and Helen had never been on a 'date'. The time they'd spent time together when they were teenagers had been more like 'hanging out' with some hand holding and kissing involved in their early teens, graduating to greater intimacies as they'd got older—and then after the uni years, they'd got married. There had been no _romance_ there, just a lifetime of knowing one another, enjoying similar upbringings at the hands of single fathers—even though Helen's father had been far more hands on—that had resulted in a deep solid friendship.

Agreeing to meet a woman he'd never met before for a date now was bloody terrifying. When he'd sent Nimueh Rivers the email inviting her for the date, he'd had his fingers crossed that she would say no. It was pretty pathetic really. He was a thirty-seven year old man who with a successful career as a well-respected neurologist and a single-father of three children—why was the prospect of spending a few hours in the company of a stranger such a nerve-wracking prospect?

"What should I wear?" he asked Morgana the night before D-Day as they sat in the living room enjoying a glass of wine in peace now that the children were in bed. It was her last night in London for a while and she left for Edinburgh the following day, abandoning him to this dating hell. "Is a business suit okay or will that make me look as though I'm trying too hard?" Arthur certainly didn't want _that_, he didn't want to be going at all, and the nearer D-Day crept, the worse Arthur felt about it.

He should know better than to make promises to children because it kind of meant that he was obliged to meet them.

"Honestly, Arthur, it depends where you're going. If you're going for a pizza then wear something casual, if you're taking her to The Ivy, then something more formal—and preferably designer—would be best." Morgana took a sip of her wine and placed it on the coffee table. "I'm starting to wish I wasn't going away, this is too much fun!"

Arthur glared at her and downed the contents of his glass in one gulp, reaching for the bottle to top it up. "I'm glad my discomfort amuses you!" he huffed, pouring himself another glass and sitting back again, still glaring at Morgana who merely winked and, kicking off her shoes, tucked her legs underneath herself.

"You'll be fine, Arthur, don't worry. Pretend it's a job interview and that your date is the candidate. It's what I do. No point hiring someone who's not up to my specifications is there? If they're not up to scratch but they've got certain…talents…then I might take them on as a temp."

Arthur groaned and pulled a face. "Did I want to know that about you?" Not a word of Morgana's monologue surprised him though. "It's no wonder you're single."

"I've told you before, I'm waiting for the right man and when I meet him, I'll know."

Arthur had to admire Morgana's conviction. She'd been saying the same thing since she'd been a teenager. Arthur had never known her to have a boyfriend for longer than a couple of months. "Good for you." Morgana had always maintained a belief in romantic love that Arthur couldn't mirror. "Maybe he's waiting for you in Edinburgh."

"Maybe he is." There was a long pause before Morgana said, "How's Merlin working out?"

It was nearly a week since Morgana had first brought Merlin to meet him, and since then Arthur had encountered him two more times. The first had been the Sunday after when Arthur had suggested Merlin come and spend the day with him and the children, wanting to be sure that they took to him before he left them in his care as well as being sure that Merlin could handle them. When they behaved they were easy to manage, but three children all wanting their own way was something else entirely.

They hadn't gone anywhere fancy, just up onto the heath with the football and a hastily thrown together picnic. Arthur had discovered two things about Merlin during those few hours. One, Merlin was fantastic with his children, two, that Merlin was terrible at football but was more than willing to have a go which had been handy because Arthur was exhausted and hadn't had the energy to do much more then be the referee from the side-lines. Merlin's boundless energy was mesmerising. _Merlin_ was mesmerising.

The second meeting had been yesterday when Merlin had picked the children up from school for the first time and stayed with them until Arthur came home. Arthur's interaction with him had been short-lived as he'd arrived back at the house just after six and Merlin had updated him on his afternoon, with the children interjecting, and he'd left straight afterwards.

The arrangement was that Merlin would fetch the children from school at least four evenings a week and stay with them until Arthur came home from work and he would take care of them if Arthur went on a date and help out at other times as and when required. Apparently even though Merlin was a student, all of his lectures were in the morning.

"The children love him," Arthur said, thinking of Theo in particular who wouldn't shut up about him. It had been 'Merlin this' and 'Merlin that' all last night. "If he carries on like this then I _might_ thank you for finding him for me."

"You'll be thanking me alright," Morgana said sweetly. "I know it."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Remind me to call Edinburgh and warn it's population to stay indoors for five weeks."

"Already called ahead," Morgana said. "The red carpet is waiting."

Arthur wouldn't be surprised if it was.

**: o : o :**

Saturday arrived far too quickly for Arthur's liking. He could feel his nerves fraying at the thought of the impending date later that day. Arthur hadn't been nervous since Helen's funeral, because saying the right thing had been so important, because how did you say goodbye to the mother of your children with dignity when what you really wanted to do was throw a punch at the wall, or kick something, someone, hunt down the person who had driven into Helen and left her for dead, leaving his children motherless and him a widower?

It was probably not the best thing to be thinking about his dead wife's funeral just before going on a date with another woman though. He checked his watch and groaned. It was only twelve o'clock in the afternoon. He wasn't meeting Nimueh until seven o'clock! Merlin wasn't due to come over until six.

Right now Arthur would like nothing more than a couple of hours of Merlin's chatter—for that was something else about him that Arthur had found he liked—to soothe his mood, but he couldn't just ring him and ask him to come earlier—for one, they weren't _friends_, he'd have to pay Merlin for the extra hours, and two, he didn't like that Merlin was the first person who popped into his head as a distraction from thinking about that evening. Distraction from such things was Leon or Lance's job as his best mates.

He stopped pacing and dragged his phone from his pocket and hovering his thumb over the Lance's number in the 'Recents' in his phone before sighing heavily and throwing his phone onto the sofa and joining it moments after. Talking about the upcoming date was only going to make him more agitated.

He checked his watch to find only two minutes had passed. Fuck. "Florence!" he called, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "Libby! Theo!"

He heard footsteps from upstairs and the voice of his eldest, "Yes, Dad?"

"Get your shoes on, we're going shopping."

**: o : o :**


	2. Chapter 2 of 4

**: o : o :**

When Merlin arrived just over half-an-hour early Arthur was just unloading the last of their purchases from the back of his car. He'd spent a small fortune, money that he luckily had more than enough of, on things none of them really needed. That included some new, more casual clothes for him. Designer suits he had in abundance, fashionable casual clothes, not so much.

"Wow," Merlin said, pulling up to the side of Arthur's car on the drive in a battered old VW Campervan. He wound up the window and jumped down. "Is it the end of the world and no one told me? Here, let me give you a hand." He reached into Arthur's car boot and grabbed the last three bags. Arthur slammed the boot closed and Merlin followed him into the house.

"I took the kids shopping to that new shopping centre in Stratford," Arthur said, dropping the bags in the hallway and rubbing his hands together. "We got a little carried away."

"No kidding," Merlin agreed, wide blue eyes scanning the array of bags around their feet. "Is any of this stuff for you?"

Arthur thought of the jeans he'd bought to wear that evening and the new shirt to go with them and found that he didn't want Merlin to know that he'd done that, didn't want him to know he was nervous about the evening ahead, because—well, he didn't know why, he just didn't want to tell him. "Some," he said, picking up the bags nearest his feet. "Why don't you get yourself a drink and make yourself at home while I get the children to put this stuff away? I hope you don't mind, we didn't have time to eat—I'll leave you some money to order something in for the four of you."

"Sounds good, I haven't eaten either, spent all day editing an assignment and it totally slipped my mind." He smiled then and Arthur had forgotten—okay, blocked out—just how wonderful that smile was, because it hit him again, right in the gut, making his chest hurt from the force of it. "You all prepared for the big date then?"

Just like that Arthur's mood plummeted. He'd almost managed to forget, shoving it to the back of his mind and concentrating on shopping—even though he'd consciously bought an outfit for the very same date, he'd not given any thought to the fact that it was getting nearer and nearer to that time when he would have to leave and spend several hours in the company of a stranger.

"As prepared as I can be I suppose." He shrugged, trying to appear unfazed. "Just need to grab a shower and get changed."

"You're nervous."

"I— No I'm not. What gave you that idea?" _I'm Arthur Pendragon, I don't get nervous_. Arthur had never been gladder that he could filter his thoughts before articulating them, because Jesus, sometimes his thoughts were utter bullshit!

"Nothing really, just a feeling." Arthur felt like Merlin was looking right into him then and wondered what he saw. Merlin shrugged and looked away. "I'll just…go and make a cup of tea then." He smiled again, different from before, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes as he stepped over the bags and headed towards the kitchen.

When Arthur came back downstairs again thirty minutes later, leaving the kids upstairs sorting out their shopping in their rooms with instructions to come straight down to Merlin once they'd put everything away, he found Merlin sitting at the breakfast bar with a pile of takeaway menus in front of him texting someone on his phone.

"I'm off now then," Arthur said, his stomach churning. "Don't hesitate to call me if anything happens. I gave you Gwen's number didn't I?"

Merlin was nodding but his eyes were travelling the length of Arthur's body before eventually meeting his gaze. "Um—yes—you gave me all the numbers the other day. Don't worry; they're safe with me, Arthur." He put his phone down and said, "You look great. You'll blow this woman away." Again, the smile didn't meet his eyes.

Arthur was a seasoned professional, part of his job was reading people and he could tell when someone was genuine or not. "Is everything okay?" he asked, watching Merlin carefully.

Merlin stared back blankly for a second. "Everything's fine."

"Daddy you look brilliant!" Libby said, almost stumbling into the room with Theo hot on her tail. "She'll definitely marry you now."

"Don't be silly, Libby," Theo chided, rolling his eyes. "People don't get married after one date. Dad won't know if he likes this woman properly from one date, right, Dad?"

Arthur smirked, glad of the interruption. Leave it the younger generation to lighten the mood. "That's right. Aunty Morgana told me to treat it like a job interview." Now why had he admitted that?

"I hope you're more thorough than the job interview you gave me," Merlin piped up beside him. "I don't think you asked me one question!"

Merlin was right, Arthur hadn't even interviewed him. "You came on my scary younger sister's recommendation. I didn't dare."

"Daddy! Aunty Morgana's not _scary_," Libby protested.

Arthur begged to differ, but as he automatically glanced at his watch he realised he really needed to be going, it wouldn't do to be late. "Where's Flo? I have to go now."

"Here, Dad," Florence appeared in the doorway, her hands behind her back and a guilty expression stamped across her face.

"Alright, fess up, what have you got behind your back?"

Florence produced a printed A4 sheet and held it out for Arthur take. "Just some questions for you to ask tonight. The ones in red are the most important, if she answers those wrongly then she's _not_ the one, the amber ones are the sort of in-betweeny ones and the greens ones are just to help the conversation flow."

Arthur took the sheet and scanned the list, unsure whether to be amused or horrified. "Who's the coolest, Superman or Spiderman?" He raised an eyebrow. "What's the answer to that?"

"That one's mine!" Theo said with excitement. "And it's Spiderman, obviously."

"Obviously," Arthur repeated glancing at Merlin and pulling a face, receiving _the_ smile in return and feeling ridiculously pleased about it. Arthur grinned back, bolstered. He folded the list and slid it into his pocket. "I'll take the list, but no promises."

He headed to the door and lifted his car keys from the hook. This was it. He was really going to do this.

"Now, be good for Merlin, and I want you to go to sleep when he asks because I won't tell you about my date until the morning, okay?"

That was if he lived that long.

**: o : o :**

Nimueh Rivers was an attractive brunette in her early thirties with hypnotic blue eyes and the distracting habit of twirling a lock of hair between her thumb and forefinger as she talked.

"I couldn't resist answering that ad when I saw it," she told him once they had been seated at their table and the waiter had taken their drinks orders. Arthur had ended up suggesting they meet at Pizza Express in Hampstead rather than attempting anything out of his comfort zone. This way it was pleasant without being awkwardly formal. "I think it's admirable that you're raising those children single-handed. It must be _so_ hard for you."

Arthur didn't see it that way. Yes, at first it had been difficult, but now it was what it was, it was their life, they made the best of it and the children were happy. "I admit it was a struggle at first, when Helen first died, but I have a very good support network."

"That's good to hear," Nimueh said, smiling at him and turning her attention to the menu. "What will you have?"

Arthur wasn't hungry. The nerves had gone the moment they'd sat down and he'd realised that Morgana was right; this _could_ be like a job interview. Arthur glanced at the menu, not giving it much thought when he selected his choice. "Four seasons," he said, playing it safe and sticking with the familiar. "You?"

"I'll have the Cannelloni." She placed her menu on the table and reached over to place her hand over Arthur's. Arthur stared down at it and the only thing that popped into his head was, 'hmm, fake nails' and the desperate urge to snatch his hand back. Nimueh stroked her thumb over his wrist and said, "It's so wonderful to be here with you, Arthur. It's like fate is smiling down upon us."

"Um," Arthur pulled his hand out of her grasp as carefully as he could without causing offence and beamed gratefully at the waiter who'd arrived with their drinks. "It's nice to meet you too," he said, forcing a smile. Was it normal for people to hold hands like that on a first date? It might be nearly twenty years since he'd been on one but surely there had to be some kind of etiquette for this online dating malarky?

They placed their orders and Arthur was about to ask some getting-to-know-you questions when a blast of music almost made him jump out of his seat, and turning he saw a young man with an acoustic guitar had appeared on a makeshift stage near the window. He had a mop of dark hair and gangly limbs that reminded him of Merlin. Arthur frowned and turned his attention back to Nimueh who was twirling her hair and smiling at him prettily, her blue eyes trying to catch his and his heart sank. _What the hell am I doing here?_ He didn't feel _anything_, nothing other than a basic appreciation that she was an attractive woman and the urgent desire to get away.

It went downhill from there. The conversation was stilted, Arthur struggling to even dredge up his basic social skills. He knew he'd hit rock bottom when, over coffee—he'd hoped she'd say no to the coffee so he could make his escape—he found himself asking, "So, who do you prefer, Spiderman or Superman?"

Nimueh blinked and actually seemed to consider the question before answering, "Superman. His powers are far superior." Arthur heard a game show incorrect answer buzzer in his head as she gave the wrong Theo-approved answer and he wanted to laugh and say, 'sorry, I have to end this here, your answer is not cool enough'.

"That's interesting," he said, wracking his brain for one of the other questions the kids had prepared for him. _Get me out of here._ "Tell me, um, what kind of music do you like?" Dammit, that was the wrong question. It was supposed to be 'who is your favourite band?'—the answer to which was, unanimously as all the children loved them, Mumford and Sons.

Nimueh tipped her head to one side and hummed. "I'm a big opera fan. I'm not fond of modern music it all sounds the same. How about you?"

Arthur thought opera was incredibly dull. "I like a bit of everything," he avoided and resisted the urge to look at his watch.

"You know, you're not how I thought you would be, Arthur," Nimueh purred, her hand hovering perilously close to Arthur's. Hastily he shoved both of his hands under the table. She was starting to give him the creeps now. The thought of her touching him again made his stomach roil.

"Oh, how so?" he asked, feigning interest, trying to make this less painful until he could make his escape. Behind them the Merlin look-a-like was belting out an old Fleetwood Mac number that was building into a frenzied crescendo of 'Big Love' and although Arthur approved of the song choice, he winced. There was no love here; there was no anything other than wasted time on his part.

"When your father used to talk about you, he said you could charm the birds from the trees."

For a moment Arthur thought he'd heard her wrong. "You knew my father?"

Nimueh preened, shaking out her long glossy hair with a pout. "Yes, don't you remember him mentioning me? He was such a lovely man, your father. We went out for a few months back in 1994."

If Arthur had thought the low point was the superman thing he'd been wrong. He was on a date with one of his father's ex's and he was going to have to recalculate that assumption Nimueh was in her early thirties. Finding yourself on a date with your dead father's ex-girlfriend gave a whole new meaning to the term 'rock bottom'.

**: o : o :**

"Oh no, was it that bad?" Merlin asked when Arthur walked zombie-like into the living room and wordlessly sank into the armchair, tipped his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger.

Merlin was sitting cross-legged on the floor with his laptop open on the coffee table in front of him, the light from the screen casting sharp shadows across his cheekbones and making him look otherworldly. Arthur decided it was wise to keep his eyes closed for the foreseeable future rather than risk being caught staring.

"I wouldn't say _bad_ exactly," Arthur said, trying to play down his relief at his escape. "Though apparently she used to date my father, so—"

"She _what_?" Merlin coughed—a half laugh half splutter, "She and your Dad? How old was she?" He closed his laptop and regarded Arthur with amused wide eyes.

"I don't know, I thought she was about thirty but she said it was 1994 when they went out so unless she was _very _young..." He groaned. "Oh God, they probably—" He shuddered. He didn't want to think about what they'd probably done. Although his father had never been short of a girlfriend if he'd wanted one he certainly hadn't been a Hugh Heffner; still, Arthur never wanted to think about what might've gone on behind Uther's closed bedroom doors.

Merlin clapped his hand over his mouth and smothered a laugh. Arthur's lips twitched in response. "So, are you seeing her again?" Merlin removed his hand and wiped his eyes, bursting into laughter again as soon as he'd asked the question.

"I think it's safe to assume not." Laughter burst out of his chest, startling him. "This could only happen to me," he said when he could find his voice. "My first date in forever and my _father_ has been there first!"

"It could've been worse. You could have found this out later down the line, after you'd…you know." At his own words Merlin blushed and looked away, his laughter fading.

"It wouldn't have come to that. I'd already resorted to asking the Spiderman question—and she got the answer wrong!"

Merlin perked up. "You didn't?" His face split into the smile that Arthur was coming to think of a 'the killer'. "She didn't do it for you then, anyway?"

"No, she really didn't—and I realised that long before she told me about my father." Arthur shook his head, thinking of the handholding and the fact that he'd been desperate to get away. "So, Merlin, did the kids behave tonight?"

Merlin nodded. "Good as gold." He chewed his lip for a moment and got to his feet, sliding his laptop under his arm. "Theo wanted to stay up and play the Wii with me, and I have to admit I was quite tempted to show him my talents at Wii Sports, but I didn't think you'd appreciate him being half asleep for the birthday party tomorrow."

Arthur scowled. He'd totally forgotten about that. It was Mordred's sixteenth birthday party and when Arthur had agreed to go he hadn't realised that Morgana wasn't going to be there to act as a buffer between himself and Morgause. He couldn't back out of going though as the children were looking forward to it because Morgause's parties were never dull.

"Not looking forward to it?" Merlin guessed.

"I could think of better ways to spend my time," Arthur replied. Like poking out his eyes with a rusty spoon or watching paint dry. "Have you met Morgause?"

Merlin grimaced by way of his answer and Arthur's scowl fell away. "Morgana's brought Morgause and Mordred to the farm once or twice. Mordred's a little…intense. He sort of took a shine to me, kept following me around—he, um, asked me out."

_I don't blame him. _The words popped into Arthur's head and refused to leave making him grateful for his fully functioning brain filter. What the bloody hell? "Ouch!" Arthur winced in sympathy. "Rather you than me. How did you turn him down?"

Merlin hesitated, finding and holding Arthur's gaze. "I told him I prefer older men."

Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. "Yes, well, I'll remember you to him tomorrow shall I?"

Merlin snorted, looking away. "You do that," he said. "I'm sure he's moved on by now."

Arthur wasn't so sure. There was something about Merlin that made him unforgettable. Whatever it was, Arthur didn't know, but he suspected Mordred would not have forgotten him. "You're welcome to join us at the party you know," Arthur said then before he even realised what he'd said. "The children would like it, and you'd be someone for me to hide behind in Morgana's absence."

Merlin looked surprised. "I—I'd love to, but I've got that assignment due in on Monday that I really need to work on tomorrow."

Arthur didn't know whether to be relieved or not. What was he thinking, asking Merlin to join them at a party he himself didn't even want to go to? Merlin worked for him, was a good kid. He was fun to be around and the children liked him, but at the end of the day, he was paid help and under no obligation to accompany Arthur anywhere. Besides, it wouldn't be right to encourage him.

"Don't worry, I shouldn't have asked," Arthur said, looking at this watch to avoid Merlin's stare. He was obviously unsettled from the whole dated-his-father thing with Nimueh and short of someone to offload it all to. He wondered if he called Morgana now whether she'd be out exploring the nightlife of Edinburgh looking for the love of her life or if she'd be settled in front of the television in the apartment the university had put at her disposal. You never knew with Morgana, she swung from one extreme to the other at the blink of an eye.

"No—I don't mind." Their eyes met again and _something_ connected between them. Merlin looked away, fiddling with the cord on his laptop. "Right then, you probably want to get on with your evening. I'd better be going. I'll see you on Monday."

Arthur ignored the disappointed feeling that rushed through him at Merlin's imminent departure.

He stood, following Merlin to the door and hovering awkwardly as Merlin donned his jacket, slotted the laptop into his backpack and hoisted it over one shoulder. "So—thanks," he said when Merlin's fingers were on the latch. "Drive safely."

Merlin's gaze found his and all Arthur could think was, again, 'fuck,' as something warm unfurled inside him, something that had already been there but wanted to remind him of its presence. "Um, you too," Merlin said then laughed and rolled his eyes. "I mean, have a good night. 'Bye." He slipped out of the front door then, leaving Arthur standing there feeling bereft.

He waited until he heard Merlin's van starting up and the sounds of the old engine as he made his way down the drive before turning around and heading upstairs to check on the children.

When he found them all sleeping soundly he went back downstairs to the living room to collapse back into the armchair. He picked up the television remote off the arm and pointed it at the flat screen that took up half of the far wall. "Don't even go there, Arthur," he told himself and hit the on button. "You can't have him."

He'd call Morgana with an update tomorrow. Right now he needed to lose himself in some mindless movie where everything blew up but nothing died other than his brain cells.

**: o : o :**

A Sunday paper ran an article on Arthur's first date—there must have been a reporter following him because they'd perfectly captured the moment Nimueh had taken his hand and the horrified expression on his face. There was a mini-biography of Nimueh, who was forty-two and _not_ the early thirties Arthur had first thought—and there was a whole paragraph dedicated to her prior relationship with his father, as well as numerous other wealthy men over the years. The article concluded that Arthur would not be seeing Nimueh again, citing his facial expressions and body language as its evidence.

Libby cut out the article for her scrap-book.

"I'm sorry to hear the date didn't go well," Gwen said after they'd finalised Arthur's diary on Monday morning. It didn't take a genius to work out that Gwen had probably received a call from Morgana approximately thirty seconds after Arthur had hung up yesterday morning. Arthur supposed that he might as well get used it, that his decision to give this thing a go was going to be a favoured topic of conversation among his friends and family—and possibly the Sunday paper buying public. "How was Mordred's party?"

"The children enjoyed themselves," Arthur said, remembering the tedium of the previous afternoon where he'd spent several hours in the company of Morgause's husband Cenred. Cenred seemed to think that he and Arthur were good mates, something that Arthur disagreed with, but at least it meant that he'd got to spend most of the afternoon in Cenred's study watching and discussing the Grand Prix, something Arthur had a passing interest in—a far preferable way to spend his time than mingling with other party guests. He and Cenred had that in common at least. "I felt more than a little guilty that I know Morgause is having an affair with the gardener though I have to admit."

"I imagine that was awkward," Gwen sympathised. "Cenred's a bit of a…plonker but he's basically harmless I think, and he adores Morgause."

"Yes, he does," Arthur agreed. Morgause and Cenred had been married for about five years. He was Morgause's second husband. She had divorced the first, Mordred's father Alvarr, when Mordred was a baby saying they had 'grown apart'. Privately Arthur believed that it was more to do with Alvarr's father leaving his fortune to charity instead of to his only son. Cenred was a very wealthy man, just Morgause's type. "There's no accounting for taste."

"So, when's your next date?" Gwen asked, standing up and heading for the door.

"You just ruined my good mood," Arthur grumbled. "This Friday—someone named Isolde." He'd decided to just bite the bullet and get on with it; after all, things could hardly be worse than the last date. He hoped.

"That's a pretty name," Gwen said.

Arthur recalled the grainy photograph on the print out; long blonde hair, blue eyes. "She's a pretty woman."

Only four days until Friday.

Arthur felt as though he were living on borrowed time.

**: o : o :**

That night he was late home. He'd had to deliver some bad news to Mrs Norton, his last patient of the day, and the unfortunate woman had become very distressed. Arthur had had to ask Gwen to call her sister to come and pick her up and had waited at the office with her long after Gwen had left. Tomorrow he'd have to organise a speedy referral to the neurosurgeon as there was no other option available.

Days like that always left him feeling drained. He couldn't help everybody. Sometimes surgery was the only route for his patients. Arthur had once planned to become a surgeon himself, but after Helen's death he'd opted not to. As a single parent he couldn't be on-call and be working nightshifts. He had no regrets that he hadn't taken that path. He loved his job even if sometimes there were days like today.

He'd called Merlin to say he would be late and to make sure that he was able to stay with the children until he made it home. When he closed the front door he leant back against it with a groan. Perhaps tomorrow he should get Gwen to plot some holiday time into his schedule—maybe half-term?—and he could take the children away somewhere and not have to think about anything other than sandcastles and ice cream.

"Arthur, is that you?" Merlin's voice drifted from the living room and Arthur pushed back from the door and headed across the hall.

"It's me," he said, nudging the door open and finding Merlin in his preferred spot on the floor in front of the coffee table, laptop open in front of him again. He was wearing faded black jeans and a red t-shirt that made the blue of his eyes clearer. "The kids upstairs?"

"Yes, Theo and Florence are doing their homework—I hope, as Theo was very keen to stay down here and watch the telly instead—and Libby went to bed. She made me promise to send you up for a goodnight kiss though, so you'd better make haste." Merlin uncurled his long legs from beneath him and stood. "I saved you some dinner—want me to heat it up while you go up?"

Arthur's stomach rumbled on cue. "That'd be great, thanks, Merlin." He backed out of the room and headed upstairs. He went to Libby's room first, finding her fast asleep. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "Sleep tight," before closing the door quietly and knocking gently on Theo's bedroom door.

Theo was curled in his armchair, fast asleep, with one of the Harry Potter books open on his chest. Arthur rolled his eyes—hoping he'd done his homework before getting lost in Hogwarts. Theo was always begging to stay up later, but inevitably he flaked out by eight on a school night. Arthur nudged him awake. "Get your pyjamas on and clean your teeth then into bed," he said, ignoring Theo's sleep-dazed grumblings as he did as he was told. Arthur followed him down the landing and watched him go into the bathroom as he approached Florence's door. There was no point worrying whether Theo had done his homework at this point; he was good for nothing now.

Florence was bent over her desk with a frown of concentration when Arthur entered her room. "Alright, Flo?" he asked. Florence was currently his biggest hope for taking on the reins at Pendragon-Singer, but she was still only twelve, it could go either way at this point.

"Hello, Dad. I'm just finishing my homework, I won't be long." She beamed up at him and he couldn't resist ruffling her hair.

"Come down and say goodnight before you go to bed okay?" he said. Florence nodded and turned her attention back to her notebook. Arthur watched her for a few seconds before turning away and going back downstairs where the smell of shepherd's pie was wafting up from the kitchen.

"Thanks, Merlin," Arthur said, pulling out a stool and settling himself at the breakfast bar. "I'm starving."

Merlin slid the dish of pie across the counter and handed Arthur a fork. "It's vegetarian pie," Merlin said sheepishly. "Mary insisted."

"You're vegetarian?" Arthur thought back to the picnic they'd taken to the heath the other day and stifled a groan. No wonder Merlin had only eaten the fruit. "You never said the other day."

"No, well, you were quite proud of those ham sandwiches you'd made, I didn't have the heart." Merlin smiled and Arthur tore his gaze away to inspect the _vegetarian_ pie. "Do you want a drink with that?"

"Water please," Arthur said, and suddenly realising what he was doing jumped to his feet. "Shit, Merlin—you don't have to wait on me!"

"It's no problem," Merlin said rolling his eyes. "Sit down and tuck in, you look like you need it. Had a rough day?" He opened a cupboard and took out two glasses and Arthur sat back down obediently and let Merlin draw two glasses of water from the fridge cooler. He placed one in front of Arthur and the other on the other side of the bar, pulling out a stool for himself.

"_Long_ day," Arthur replied. "I had to tell my last patient that the persistent headache she'd been unable to shake was the result of a cancerous tumour—the biopsy results came back this morning—and that if she 'doesn't have surgery she'd likely be dead within six months." He reached for his glass of water and took a long gulp. "I never get used to delivering bad news, which in my job is something I have to do fairly regularly."

"My Mum was a nurse," Merlin mused. "She told me you never get used to stuff like that, not if you're human."

"_Was_ a nurse?" Did that mean she was no longer around?

"Hmm, yes—she died when I was eleven. Car accident."

Arthur sighed. "I know how that goes," he sympathised, reaching out and placing a hand over Merlin's on pure instinct. "That was when Gaius took you in?"

Merlin nodded, turning his hand over and threading his fingers through Arthur's. "I lived there with him until he died when I was eighteen. He was the one who helped me decide what I wanted to do—I love nature and…nature loves me. I wanted to be able to do something with that… Hence the plant science and the herbal medicine." He shrugged. "Sounds silly doesn't it?"

"Not at all, I feel like that about medicine. I never wanted to follow in my father's footsteps and go into business. I wanted to help people."

Arthur's left hand was tingling where it was joined with Merlin's but he couldn't have pulled away if he'd tried.

He scooped a mouthful of shepherd's pie onto his fork and eyed it warily. Were those _lentils?_ "Am I going to regret eating this?"

"You're staring at it like its poisonous," Merlin teased. "It's actually very tasty. Mary's worth her weight in gold."

Boy, did Arthur know that. Mary cooked, cleaned and kept the house ship-shape so that Arthur didn't have to, and when he was stuck, she helped out with the children. He didn't know what he'd do without her. What he did know was that he was extremely lucky that he was in a position to afford her. His salary as a neurologist was considerable, but he did a lot of his work for free, he didn't _need_ the money. He believed in working for a living, always strived to be the best he could be, gave money to charity on a regular basis—he liked to think he played his part and he never forgot how lucky he was to have the luxury of having Marys and Merlins to help him out.

Arthur ate his pie—Merlin was right, it was bloody good—and listened to Merlin talk about how he was spending the next couple of days on the farm and how he hoped it would rain because the land was thirsty and before Arthur knew it he had finished the meal and had enjoyed every mouthful.

"So—if you love plants so much, why don't you eat meat?" he asked, reaching for his glass of water and taking a sip, watching Merlin's brows draw together as he formulated a response.

"I'm interested in sustainability," Merlin said eventually, meeting Arthur's gaze briefly before looking down at their still joined hands. "The world's population is getting out of control and plant based foods are the way forwards—want my soap box lecture on how it takes more grain to feed a cow than is produced in meat?"

"I'll pass thanks. I get the picture!"

Merlin grinned. "I'll make a vegetarian of you yet. If I'm still here this time next year—" The smile faded and Merlin pulled his hand away. "I have to go." He hopped down from his stool.

_This time next year._ Arthur looked away.

**: o : o :**

Friday arrived all too quickly bringing with it his date with Isolde.

Merlin had picked the children up from school and Arthur had made sure he was home from work in good time to get ready. This time he'd let the lady choose where she wanted to meet him, hence they were going somewhere called Woodlands. Arthur had never heard of it.

Apparently Merlin had. "It's a vegetarian Indian place. There's two or three of them around—I went to one in Marylebone with Morgana last year. It's nice," he'd said on Thursday evening in the ten minutes they spent in the vicinity of one another when Arthur had arrived home. "I'm pleased to see someone else has you down as a future vegetarian."

Arthur carefully chose his new jeans and a blue shirt and took himself down the living room to say goodnight to the children.

"Have you got the list?" Florence asked, looking so much like her mother Arthur's heart clenched painfully.

Arthur patted his back pocket. "I've got the list." He twirled, holding his arms out. "How do I look?"

"You look very handsome, Daddy," Libby said, running over and throwing her arms around his waist. "Doesn't he, Merlin?"

Merlin's head snapped up from the A4 document he had been reading, his eyes meeting Arthur's before he looked him up and down and said, "Very handsome indeed, Libby." Something flip-flopped inside Arthur at the look on Merlin's face as their eyes met again. Merlin winked and Arthur forced a smile, feeling it drop from his face as Merlin got to his feet and came to stand before him, reaching towards him and yanking on his collar. "There—that's better."

"I'll do then?" He attempted a light teasing tone, feeling a ball of tension form in his lower belly at Merlin's touch. He didn't want to go out. He wanted to relax on the sofa with his children, Merlin and the cat and—_fuck_. How long had he known Merlin? Two weeks? He swallowed and attempted to smooth down his shirt. "Wish me luck," he said.

"Just be cool, Dad," Theo said as Arthur headed for the door. "Like don't tell her about the last date or anything. Girls hate that—Uncle Gwaine said so."

Merlin snorted, clapping a hand over his mouth.

"I'll bear that in mind," Arthur said, feeling his lips twitch, wondering what possessed Gwaine to impart that gem of wisdom to Theo. "Be good for Merlin."

**: o : o :**

Isolde was very pleasant company even though Arthur knew from the moment he met her that this would be no more than one date. Over the course of the evening Arthur felt himself relax as the conversation flowed easily; nothing too deep, but nice and easy, and Arthur found himself laughing along with her anecdotes about some of the customers in her shop.

In return Arthur told her about his work, and then conversation led onto the children and how he had Merlin to take care of them, at which point he went on to talk about Merlin studying herbal medicine. Isolde's eyes lit up at that. "Don't tell anyone," she whispered conspiratorially, leaning forwards, "but I used to talk to plants when I was a child. I was convinced that they could understand me. It's how I ended up running a florists."

"You ought to visit the farm, Merlin has a whole greenhouse full of plants that he plays music to—" Then the words blurted out before he even thought about them. "It's still early, why don't you come back with me and meet him. If ask nicely I'm sure he'd let us visit—if you'd like?"

"I—" Isolde bit her lip. "Arthur, I like you, but I don't think that we're going to be more than friends so if…" She trailed off and shifted uncomfortably. For his part, Arthur felt a lead weight lift.

"'Come back to mine and meet Merlin' isn't a euphemism for something else, I assure you," Arthur answered with a laugh. "I haven't known him long, but I do know he enjoys talking about his work. What do you say?"

Isolde regarded him solemnly for a long moment before taking a swig of her wine and saying, "Why not?"

**: o : o :**

Isolde and Merlin clicked immediately despite Merlin's initial surprise at Arthur's bringing her to meet him—as revealed by his eyes widening and him looking between the two of them, rubbing the back of his neck and miserably making noises to leave because Arthur totally failed to explain when he'd brought Isolde back with him.

Merlin was fumbling awkwardly with his bag before Arthur realised. "No, Merlin—I brought her back to meet _you_."

"I—Oh," Merlin had stumbled. "Um—I'm not into—"

"What Arthur is trying to say, Merlin, is that I expressed an interest in plants and Arthur thought it might be an idea for me to come back and meet you in the hope that you would let me visit the farm."

After that, Arthur had been the one left out in the cold as the two of them had conversed animatedly for the next hour, Arthur sitting in the armchair watching and listening. It was fascinating the way that Merlin's eyes lit up when he talked about his work, how he waved his hands as he spoke, drawing spirals in the air to illustrate something to Isolde. Merlin had long fingers, like the rest of him really. Arthur dragged his gaze from Merlin's hands to his face again, watching his lips move, the way his tongue snuck out and licked his lips every now and then, moving on to his hair, wondering if it was as thick and soft as it looked. He moved his gaze along the length of Merlin's slender body to the juncture of his knees where he had one trainer clad foot rested atop his left leg.

"...what do you think, Arthur?"

"Huh—what?" Arthur tore his attention away from Merlin's right ankle and tried to focus. "Say again?"

"Merlin just suggested that we all go along to the farm tomorrow."

"Er—" Arthur scrambled his brain trying to think if he had any other plans for his Saturday, but other than a swim with the kids there was nothing specific from the top of his head. "Okay, we could do that. The children do love it out there."

Arrangements were made and Isolde asked Arthur to call her a cab. Before Arthur could reply, Merlin had offered her a lift home and the two of them left together leaving Arthur watching Merlin's camper van lights disappear down the drive with a tight feeling in his chest.

**: o : o :**

The article in the paper the following day proudly reported that Arthur had taken his date, one Isolde Harper—florist and entrepreneur—home with him after their date. It neglected to mention that Isolde had left again the same night with Arthur's babysitter.

Merlin was waiting for Arthur at the kitchen table on Wednesday when he came back from work, Theo scribbling away at a notebook on one side of him, Libby cutting out what looked like paper dresses on his other.

"Hey honey I'm home," Arthur joked, kissing both the children on their foreheads before collapsing into the chair opposite Merlin. He really needed to sort out that holiday.

Merlin had been watching him from the moment he walked in the door. "You look exhausted."

"I _feel_ exhausted," Arthur said with a tight smile. Today had been one long stream of horrible cases. He'd had to call Leon in for a second opinion at one point when his vision had started to blur slightly from looking at CT scans, lucky to catch his business partner in as it was his hospital day. "Flo's at Jessica's tonight, right?" Jessica was Florence's best friend and occasionally they slept over at each other's, even on school nights.

"Yes," Merlin said. He regarded Arthur through narrowed lids. "If it's alright with you, I'll stay for dinner and afterwards, I'm giving you some Reiki."

Arthur widened his eyes in alarm. Receiving a _massage_ from Merlin was all kinds of bad idea! "I don't think—"

"Don't look so horrified. I don't even have to touch you if you aren't comfortable with that." Arthur's face must've reflected his confusion. "It's not a massage, Arthur, it's healing with energy. Trust me, you'll feel better afterwards."

"There's nothing wrong with me."

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

Arthur changed the subject. "When _is_ dinner? I'm starved."

"Whenever you want it," Merlin said. "Mary had to go early today so the food just needs warming through. I'll do that while you get changed."

Arthur obeyed, and it wasn't until he was in his room shimmying out of his suit trousers that he realised how…_right_ it felt coming home to Merlin. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and said, "He's more than fifteen years younger than you, Arthur." His mirror-self glared back at him and the voice in his head said, "You want him anyway."

He flopped onto the edge of his bed and, checking his watch to make sure he had time, he called Lance. "Mate," he said when his friend answered. "I need an intervention."

**: o : o :**

Reiki, it turned out, was fucking fantastic. That night Arthur had a decent night's sleep for the first time in ages. All Merlin had done was hover his hands over Arthur's head, neck, arms, hands… Arthur had fallen asleep on the sofa feeling warm and safe, Merlin leaning over him, holding position for about five minutes and moving on to another spot. When Merlin had woken him once he had finished the treatment Arthur had felt so…different.

"What did you do to me?" he'd asked, dazed.

Theo had piped from his spot in the corner with his book, "Dad, you were snoring!" and he'd shared a look with Merlin that had the two of them laughing at Arthur. Arthur had wanted to be affronted, but instead he just felt warm and fuzzy inside, literally. His chat with Lance had done nothing to help. Lance had said, "I don't understand the problem, Arthur—if you like him do something about it." Lance was very black and white like that. In Lance's world there was no grey.

Arthur's world was full of grey.

Still, it was with renewed energy that Arthur went into work that morning and asked Gwen to block out the first two weeks of the summer holiday so he could take the children away somewhere. The last holiday they'd had together was a distant memory—Morgana had taken the children away last year and before that Arthur couldn't remember. Arthur couldn't renege on his parental responsibilities any longer now that he was settled in the practice. He'd chosen this path so he'd have time to spend with his family after all.

That lunchtime Leon materialised and took Arthur for lunch. Apparently he'd booked a slot with Gwen that morning and Gwen had rearranged his twelve-thirty to accommodate.

"Lance rang me," Leon said, cutting straight to the chase. "Said you're having a crisis."

Arthur didn't have it in him to be perturbed by them discussing him behind his back, after all, they were his best mates and had been friends since meeting at uni when they were all eighteen and here they were, twice that age and still friends. That meant something to Arthur. They weren't just friends, they were family.

"Yeah, well, Lance was about as much help as a chocolate fireguard—apparently just because he's found true love with Gwen we should all be doing the same—so if you're going to spout more of the same I suggest you don't bother and we talk about something else."

They found a table at the back of the pub and Leon went to order some food and drinks from the bar.

When he came back with two orange juices he asked, "This Merlin kid—he's good with the children?"

"Fantastic."

"He's reliable?"

"Very."

"He's how old?"

"Twenty-one."

Leon sighed and leant forwards. "The way I see it is—if you fuck him it gets awkward and you're looking for another babysitter and it seems that it'd be a shame to lose him. If you want more than that, Arthur mate, he's _twenty-one_. I know you married young but… You've got baggage and lots of it." Leon steepled his fingers and sat back, regarding Arthur across the table. "I'd hate to see you get hurt when it all gets too much for him."

It was what Arthur needed to hear but that didn't stop his chest from hurting.

"You're right," he said, shaking his head. "You're right." Arthur had more baggage than Heathrow Airport. Just because Merlin got on with the kids, flirted with him and laughed at Arthur's rubbish jokes didn't mean that he had feelings for Arthur. Arthur was just sex-starved and Merlin was there—in Arthur's house every day, with those pouting red lips and killer cheekbones, making Arthur _feel._

He was feeling things he'd never felt before. With Helen it had been a natural progression, from friends to partners to parents. These feelings for Merlin…

Arthur felt like he was on a ghost train, hurtling towards unknown terrors in the dark. It wasn't a nice feeling.

"I don't want to be right, believe me," Leon said. "If anyone deserves a second chance it's you."

"I could say the same for you." Leon had a seven year old son with his ex-partner Rowena. When they'd split up—Rowena had had an affair with her boss two years ago—Leon's life had fallen apart for a while and Lance and Arthur had helped to pick up the pieces. He saw Isaac most weekends, and sometimes Isaac and Libby would play together, but Arthur knew he missed him. Since the break-up Leon had remained resolutely single.

"Maybe someday," Leon said, smiling up at the waitress who'd just arrived with their food. "Right now I prefer discussing you and your dating escapades. Who's next on the list?"

"Hardly escapades," Arthur said, scrabbling around in the condiments pot in the hope of some ketchup for his burger and finding one sachet tucked in between the mayonnaise and the mustard. "Did I tell you that my last date, Isolde, met one of Merlin's friends on Saturday at the farm, went out for a drink with him that night according to Merlin they've been inseparable ever since. I'm cursed."

Isolde had taken one look at Merlin's colleague Tristan and that had been it. _Love at first sight_. Not that Arthur minded, but he was sceptical. Love like that didn't exist.

"Sounds to me like you played an important part in bringing two people together," Leon said. "Now, tell me about your next date."

**: o : o :**


	3. Chapter 3 of 4

**: o : o :**

Vivian Black was pretty, sharp and entertaining company. Arthur considered accepting her invite back to hers just to take the edge off this agitation he'd been feeling for the last few weeks since meeting Merlin.

However, it was soon apparent that Vivian had an agenda, and whilst it was partly to be expected of anyone replying to an online dating profile because—that was what they were for, finding a partner—Arthur was clearly being sized up as potential husband material by the size of his bank balance.

Vivian didn't work. She lunched. She only wore clothing that came with a designer label. Her heels were the highest Arthur had ever seen anyone walk in and clearly came with a price tag to match. Arthur was just thinking that she would be better suited as a WAG when Vivian dropped that her previous amour was a striker for Chelsea.

It had been clear from the offset that Arthur's choice of venue for their date—back to the Hampstead Heath Pizza Express—fell far below Vivian's expectations, although she'd tried to hide it. She obviously knew all too well how much money was in Arthur's portfolio.

Arthur went home feeling horribly despondent, knowing Merlin would be there and wishing—

It was still early when Arthur got back. He found Merlin and the kids all sitting around the coffee table in the living room playing cards amidst squeals of laughter and a stream of bickering.

"Looks like you lot had more fun than I did," Arthur said, leaning on the door jamb with a fond smile.

"What was she like, Daddy?" Libby asked, running to greet him. "She was the really pretty one tonight!"

"Well, she was certainly pretty," Arthur confirmed. "But just because someone's pretty doesn't mean that they're a nice person does it? We've talked about this before."

"I know that, Daddy!" Libby rolled her eyes.

"Did you ask her any of our questions?" Theo asked, looking expectantly at Arthur, holding his cards protectively in front of his chest. "Did you see the new ones I added?" Theo had given Arthur the new and revised list of questions, pointing out the one about the Avengers and insisting that Arthur ask his date which one was the coolest but refusing to say what answer he wanted.

"I didn't exactly get chance. Vivian was more interested in talking about money." He chanced a glance at Merlin who was watching him with an inscrutable expression. Arthur swallowed and offered him a smile as he looked away and towards Florence who seemed to be waiting her turn to speak.

"It doesn't matter, Dad, there's plenty more apples in the tree," she imparted with a serious expression. "We want you to be happy. If you don't like her you don't like her." Arthur could always rely on Florence to be the practical one.

He pushed forwards and changed the subject. "What are you playing?"

"Merlin's showing us how to play rummy," Libby announced. "I won a round!"

Arthur returned his gaze to Merlin. "Rummy, Merlin? Isn't that a bit...confusing?" Arthur said this because he'd never understood the rules himself the one time he'd attempted to play it when he'd been Theo's age.

Merlin shook his head. "This is the _Emrys_ family version." Which explained everything and nothing. "We're almost at Kings now which is the last round. Why don't we play again and you can join in?"

Just over an hour later Arthur had just been thoroughly whipped at cards by his ten year old son. He'd had managed to wrap his head around the rules, which were very much more child friendly than the version he recalled attempting all those years ago. He did strongly suspect that Merlin was letting the kids win as he'd had a couple of strong first hands and gone downhill afterwards, coming second to last before Arthur.

Arthur hadn't had that much fun in years.

"Come on then, you lot, time for bed." Arthur said, looking at the clock and seeing it was after eleven. The children rarely stayed up that late, but as it was Saturday it couldn't do any harm. "Say goodnight to Merlin and go and get ready."

"But, Dad—" Theo whined. "I'm not tired."

"But you will be in the morning if you don't go to bed now," Arthur countered. "Go on—off you go. I'll see you in the morning."

All three children kissed him and Merlin before trailing from the room. For a moment Arthur felt content in the warm glow of the feeling of domesticity that the scene brought to mind until Merlin started to gather the cards together and said, "I guess that's my cue to leave."

"You don't have to go yet," Arthur heard himself say. "Stay and have a drink with me."

Merlin paused, the deck of cards half into the packet, then shook his head and said, "No—no, I need to get back, I've got another day at the farm tomorrow and I need to get a good night's sleep."

"You could stay here," Arthur said and mentally cursed himself. Where was all of this coming from? What the fuck was he doing encouraging himself? He'd agreed that this—thing—had no place in his life, that Merlin was his babysitter and nothing more, and as the babysitter was far more valuable to Arthur than as a quick conquest. "In the spare room, obviously."

What the hell was wrong with him?

"Um—" Merlin bit his lip and Arthur watched the path of his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "That's a tempting offer, but I really can't. Percy's picking me up in the morning so I need to be at mine so—"

And who the hell was Percy? Arthur hadn't met a Percy last week on his visit to the farm. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask but that was the moment that Merlin got to his feet and headed for the door. "I'll see you the usual time on Monday, yeah?" and Arthur nodded, not really listening, trying to mentally conjure what someone called Percy might look like and coming back with the reassuring image of the old TV gardener Percy Thrower.

Arthur followed Merlin to the front door, intending to lock up behind him and was thrown when Merlin turned abruptly and pressed his lips against his. One hand curled around Arthur's neck and drew him closer. His lips were a little rough, ticking across Arthur's, his tongue pressuring for entry and receiving it when Arthur groaned and leant into him, desire pushing through him with a force he'd never known. God—he wanted this—_had_ wanted this since the first time he'd laid eyes on Merlin…could imagine a time he _wouldn't_ want this.

"Dad! Libby's stolen my Harry Potter book!" Theo's voice boomed down from the top of the stairs and Arthur wrenched back from Merlin feeling as though he'd just been doused in cold water causing him to let go of Merlin—at what point had he taken hold?—and stumble backwards, his fingers scrabbling against the wall for purchase.

"I'd better go and sort them out," he said, his voice shaking, avoiding Merlin's gaze and side-stepping away from the front door. "Er—thanks for tonight."

Merlin's hand was on the latch. "No problem. It's what I'm paid for after all," he said with an edge of bitterness. With that, he was through the door and Arthur heard the front door open and close moments later.

He dropped his head to the wall and said, "Well done, Pendragon."

**: o : o :**

Arthur phoned Morgana on Sunday. "How's Edinburgh?" he asked, as he did every time he called her, which was a couple of times a week since she'd gone. "Have you met 'the one' yet?"

Arthur stared gloomily at the newspaper report of his date with Vivian—never more glad he hadn't gone home with her when he saw her reported as 'kiss and tell girl, Viv Black'—glaring daggers at the paragraph that reported that last week's date, Isolde, had lost interest within the week and had found someone else, but didn't once mention that _Arthur_ had introduced them!

"You know, don't you, Arthur, that you'll meet yours before I meet mine," Morgana said in that annoying way she had when she went all prophetic about things. Arthur preferred to believe that she was talking nonsense, that the things she had said would come to pass—and had—were merely coincidence.

Arthur chose not to bite and went with, "Not if any of these God-awful dates are anything to go by. I'm three down, six to go—what was I thinking promising the kids I'd go out with all nine of them?"

"It's good for you, brother dearest—it's about time you had some fun."

"Fun? I've had more fun at my last visit to the dentist."

"Yes, well, I'll be back in a couple of weeks to torture you in person." Arthur could hear a tap switching on and off at Morgana's end and surmised she was making herself a drink. "How's Merlin?"

"Bloody perfect," Arthur replied without thinking. _Fuck_. "Haven't you spoken to him yourself?" he covered quickly.

"Of course I have. He's _is_ my friend."

"What— Is he enjoying working for me? He hasn't said one way or the other."

"Oh, poor insecure Arthur," Morgana cooed, doing a very good job of setting Arthur's teeth on edge. "I couldn't break a confidence."

Arthur's mood began to plummet. Had Merlin told her about their kiss? He couldn't have, could he, because if he had there was no way Morgana wouldn't have mentioned it. She'd be crowing.

"Whatever. Honestly, sometimes you take far too much pleasure in making me squirm," he huffed. He didn't like the idea of Merlin and Morgana discussing him behind his back in any capacity. He didn't like it _one little bit_. He changed the subject, and as they terminated the call Arthur realised he'd forgotten to ask who Percy was.

Not that it was any of his business. One kiss didn't make a relationship and it couldn't happen again. Merlin was too young—or Arthur was too old. One or the other.

Dammit all to hell.

**: o : o :**

"I've got a medical conference in Dublin next week," Arthur said on Wednesday as he and Merlin sat awkwardly at the dining room table following the children piling into the living room to play a game in the Wii. "Monday to Thursday. I should have asked before—are you able to move in for a few days? I'll pay you the extra of course."

Merlin tipped his head to one side and Arthur could see him mentally scanning through his calendar. "That should be fine—though would it be okay if a couple of my course mates come over to study one of the nights—we've got a group presentation the week after. Morgana can vouch for them as well as I can, that they're safe to have around the kids."

"No problem—though I will run their names by Morgana. Who are they?"

"Percival Naughton and Freya Busby."

Arthur didn't know why this Percival's name set his teeth on edge, but he reassured himself that a third party was there as well then—

Of course, Merlin could be getting up to anything and everything with whoever he wanted when he wasn't at Arthur's house or with Arthur's children. For all Arthur knew, Percy, Freya and Merlin would have a wild threesome in Arthur's swimming pool while his children slept upstairs.

"You don't have to, Merlin—the children can stay with Gwen and Lance if it's inconvenient."

"No, I don't mind at all. They'll be safe with me I promise."

Merlin was wearing an open necked checked shirt over jeans and Arthur could see the beginnings of a collarbone and the full expanse of his neck. God, he really was the most gorgeous man Arthur had ever—

"Arthur?"

"Huh—what?" Arthur snapped his eyes back into their sockets.

"About the other night. I—"

"Don't worry about it," Arthur said quickly. "It's already forgotten."

"Right." Merlin pushed his chair back and moved to stand behind it, long fingers clutching the back of it like his life depended on it. "So we'll just carry on as we did before then. Like nothing happened."

"It was only a kiss," Arthur tried to placate, seeing Merlin felt bad that it had happened and wanting to reassure him. "Don't let it worry you."

"I wasn't _worried_." Merlin's face was pale. "You kissed me back."

Arthur didn't reply, trying to ignore the hurt in Merlin's voice.

"Okay, whatever," Merlin said then. "I can forget." He strode from the room at speed and Arthur heard the front door close seconds later.

"It's a trick of the mind," Arthur said into thin air. He wasn't well and truly smitten with his twenty-one year old babysitter. It wasn't real.

**: o : o :**

"Dad, it's Merlin's birthday on Sunday," Florence informed him the following morning over breakfast. "Can we have a party?"

"Can we go to the British Museum?" Theo interrupted. "Merlin told me it's his favourite place in London."

"Can we get a cake?" Libby asked.

"I expect Merlin will have plans with his friends," Arthur replied, feeling irrevocably sad all of a sudden. "But—why don't you ask him later, hmm?"

Arthur spent the day with back to back patients and didn't have a lot of time to think about anything else until he got home that night, late again, to find he'd almost missed dinner.

"What are we having?" he asked, joining them in the dining room to find everything laid out and a steaming dish of something cheesy in the middle of the table.

"Veggie lasagne," Florence informed him. "It's always veggie food when Merlin stays. Mary's put a load of stuff in the freezer just in case."

"Mary fancies Merlin," Libby sang.

"She does not," Merlin said, blushing to his ears.

"She does so," Libby answered. "She's always pinching your cheeks and telling you how handsome you are, and she keeps smacking your bottom with the spoon."

"She asked me if you had a girlfriend last week," Florence said, totally matter of fact.

"She asked me that too!" Theo exclaimed.

"That's enough you lot, you're embarrassing Merlin," Arthur said, amused. Mary was at least forty-five and about three times the width of Merlin. Still, if Merlin liked an ampler older woman… His lips twitched. "Will you succumb, Merlin?"

He served himself a portion of lasagne and pushed the dish in Merlin's direction for him to take some for himself and reached for the plate of garlic bread.

Merlin was still a very fetching shade of red. "Um—it's hardly true love," he managed, concentrating on scooping out some lasagne.

"There's no such thing as 'true love'. You should know that more than most with your love of nature. _Love_ is just nature's illusion," Arthur said firmly and without thinking, his brain filter letting him down.

Merlin's fork clanked onto his plate. "You don't really believe that do you?"

"Are you telling me you don't?"

"I—I—"

"Perhaps this isn't a conversation for the dinner table," Arthur took pity on him adding, "Children, didn't you have something to ask Merlin?"

God, Merlin looked beautiful when he was flustered.

"We already did," Florence said. "We're going to the British Museum and then for an ice cream in Regents Park."

"I wasn't sure if you might have plans with your friends," Arthur said, watching Merlin closely, not liking how he was avoiding his gaze.

"I'll be going out for a drink that night with my housemates and a few others," Merlin said, finally looking at him. "If you have other plans for Sunday it's fine—"

"Nonsense," Arthur said. "It's been years since I've been to the British Museum, it'll be fun."

Merlin visibly relaxed like he'd been worried that the invite wasn't approved by him and now that it was the tension left his shoulders. "I'll make it into a treasure hunt," he said in a low voice glancing over towards the children who were waiting turns to help themselves to food and not paying them any attentions. "I'll bring prizes."

"You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

**: o : o :**

Catrina was an attractive brunette a few years older than Arthur. She was charming, polite and very funny. Arthur's sides hurt from laughing before he'd even started on his main course. However, there was something just not quite comfortable in the way that she was that little bit too interested in the children. Arthur couldn't put his finger on it exactly, but once the hysterics had died down and they had settled down to talking about 'real life'... Arthur's skin began to prickle uncomfortably.

It had started when he'd taken the out the list the children had given him, expecting Catrina to laugh along with him at their cheek because she clearly had a sense of humour and she _had_ asked about them. Instead she'd been aghast that Arthur would 'let his children dictate his life' to him in such a manner! She'd expanded to say that children were a blessing that should be raised to be—in Catrina's own words—perfect reflections of their parents.

"I think we should end this here," she'd said frostily, gathering her things and preparing to stand. "I will be having very firm words with my PA about this later. I asked her to find me a man who already had children as I cannot have any, but she knows my views on parenting and my distaste for precocious little brats!" She'd gathered up the skirt of her long dress and swept from the restaurant leaving Arthur and several of the other diners staring after her with a mixture of shock and amusement.

Arthur was then nearly blinded by the flash of a camera knew without a doubt that the whole sorry affair would be scooped in the Sunday paper the next day.

He paid the bill and left, not caring that his meal was half eaten and that he was still hungry. He rang Lance from the car. "I just got papped again," he complained, needing to offload. "My latest date just accused me of being a bad parent—I think—and left me sitting there in the middle of the restaurant!" He sighed and ran shaking a hand through his hair.

Lance had laughed that calming laugh that he had that made Arthur instantly feel calmer. "Tell me more," he encouraged, and Arthur did, sitting in the car park with the phone at his ear for fifteen minutes as he described the evening in full. Once the call ended Arthur felt a lot better—Lance was good at the calming people down thing.

This time when he arrived home the children were in bed and Merlin was in his usual spot on the floor tapping away at his laptop with the cat curled up at his feet purring noisily. Arthur went up to check on the brood and came back downstairs to say, "I need a drink."

Merlin snapped the lid of his computer closed. "Not true love?"

"Let me just get a drink and I'll fill you in," Arthur said ignoring Merlin's dig. "Can I get you anything?"

"What are you having?"

"Whisky." Preferably lots of it.

"Can I have some with coke?" Merlin lifted himself up and sat back on the sofa. The cat opened one eye, got to his feet, and jumped up beside him. "I'm a bit of a lightweight, wouldn't want to show myself up."

Arthur headed to the kitchen to get the bottle and a couple of glasses, stopping at the fridge for a can of coke. He rather liked the idea of Merlin getting a bit tipsy in his presence. He wondered what he was like when he was drunk—was he a happy friendly drunk or did he cry in the corner? Arthur was neither. He never got really maudlin, nor excessively happy, alcohol just made him relaxed. Right now, he needed that.

He took his booty into the living room and set it down on the coffee table, pouring two measures and topping Merlin's with coke before handing it to him.

"Tell me then," Merlin encouraged, tucking his feet under his bottom and curling up in the corner of the sofa. "Did she have horns?"

Arthur at down in the other corner and filled Merlin in, but by the end of it, they were both laughing, Merlin wiping his eyes as they filled with tears. "Would you say she was the worst yet?"

"It's a toss-up," Arthur pretended to consider, "Between her and date number one."

"Ah, yes—the woman who used to date your father." Merlin tried to straighten his expression. "You should write a book at the end of this—it'd be a best seller at this rate."

"That's Lance's job as the writer among us," Arthur said. "If people really want to read about the sorry state of my non-existent love life then more fool them."

"Your non-existent love life," he said and swigged the last of his drink, staring down at it forlornly. "You'd rather spend your time with psychotic harpies than admit you're... Am I that repulsive?"

He reached for the bottle and topped up his glass, taking a gulp of neat whisky, his eyes going wide as he swallowed.

"Merlin, I don't think—

"I shouldn't have had that. I never drink anything when I'm driving, not even a shandy. I just...I didn't think." His face fell and he looked more forlorn than Arthur had ever seen him. "I forgot—" He looked up at Arthur then and Arthur quickly sat on his right hand to stop himself from reaching out to him and telling him that the last thing he thought he was is repulsive. The alcohol swirled pleasantly in his blood and Arthur felt such an overwhelming surge of affection for Merlin—

"Stay in the spare room," Arthur repeated his invite from the week before wishing he'd thought to make the invite when they'd arranged Merlin's birthday outing in the first place—it seemed pointless to send him home when he was coming back in the morning. "If you need some clothes in the morning I'm sure I've got something that will fit. We can all go out for a birthday breakfast, American style."

Merlin was silent.

"Merlin? You okay?" _Tell him he doesn't repel you._

"Yeah, fine—thanks for the offer but—" His long fingers picked at the hem of his shirt and he sighed. "Just—thanks. That'd be good. Yeah." He smiled, but the light had long gone from his eyes.

"Another drink?" Arthur said, gesturing at the bottle and half-empty can of coke on the table. Merlin nodded and Arthur took his glass from him, taking extra care not to brush his fingers as he did so. "How about we watch a film? After the night I've had I just want to watch some escapist nonsense."

"Can we watch Bourne?" Merlin asked immediately, sitting forward in his seat. "I was looking at your DVDs the other nights. I've never seen those films and I hear they're pretty good."

"Never seen Bourne?" Arthur replied in mock-horror, trying to lighten the mood. "This must be rectified immediately!"

He got up to sort out the DVD, sitting back in his vacated spot. "Can I put my feet on the coffee table?" Merlin asked, sounding very much like a polite little boy—like Arthur's son.

"You can but it's not very comfortable," Arthur replied, his attention on the screen as he scrolled through all the options to find 'play'. "Why don't you lie down here? I'll take one of the chairs."

"S'alright, you don't have to move," Merlin said, unfurling his long legs and twisting so he was lay on his side in a semi-foetal position—disturbing the cat again who moved to the back of the sofa in annoyance— the balls of his feet against Arthur's thigh. "This is okay?"

Arthur's thigh began to tingle and the blood began to rush to his cock. For fucks sake! "I'll take the chair, its fine," he said, getting up quickly. "You stretch out there." He arranged himself in the chair and watched as Merlin's legs stretched out and took up the rest of the sofa. Forcing himself to look away he pressed play and settled back against the cushions to enjoy the movie.

**: o : o :**

Arthur wasn't sure how he'd managed to get as much as a single wink of sleep that night. He probably wouldn't have if it weren't for the whisky. The spare room Merlin was using was on the opposite end of the long landing to Arthur's, but that didn't stop Arthur being hyper aware that he was there or from desperately wanting to tiptoe down there and join him.

In the morning when he went down, Merlin was already in the kitchen and dressed in some of his own clothing. "I keep spare clothes in the van," he explained without looking up from his phone. "It's a necessity when you spend a lot if your time in muddy fields."

Arthur sighed and went to rouse the children and to tell them they were going out for breakfast. This was met with squeals of delight and some rapid washing and dressing. Perhaps Arthur was using the wrong incentive on school days! They all piled into Arthur's 4x4 and Arthur drove into the city, his mind on the cafe in the Regent's Park. It was early enough to be nice and quiet and the five of them sat outside with piles of pancakes and syrup, Arthur and Merlin enjoying coffee whilst the kids had orange juice. It was the perfect spring morning, the sun on their faces, warming but not yet burning, the sound of the water nearby, the traffic lost somewhere in the distance, his family by his side.

"Can we sing Merlin Happy Birthday?" Libby asked, bouncing on her chair in excitement.

"Not now, Libby. How about we do that when we get home this afternoon?" He chanced a glance at Merlin who was looking right back at him with an odd expression on his face. "I'm sure Merlin doesn't want everyone to know it's his birthday."

"I bet he doesn't mind do you, Merlin?" Libby persisted, expression hopeful.

"I think your Dad's right, but it's nice of you to think of it." Merlin leaned forwards and whispered conspiratorially into Libby's ear, "You've got something in your hair—" and with a flourish he produced a bright blue butterfly and held it out on his palm. Libby gasped held out her hand and the butterfly fluttered it's wings and landed on her palm.

"Wow, Dad, look!" she exclaimed.

"How on earth do you do that?" Arthur asked, impressed. He'd seen the flower trick before, but the butterfly—even though a kind Arthur had never seen before—seemed to be alive.

Merlin grinned making Arthur's heart skip. "Magic."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Do it again then."

Merlin shrugged and turned to Florence, reaching behind her ear and opening his palm to produce another butterfly, this time purple.

"You really are a geek," Arthur teased.

"I've heard worse."

**: o : o :**

They got back home about four o'clock, exhausted.

Merlin's face was fixed into a smile that he hadn't dropped all afternoon. He looked happy and relaxed and Arthur couldn't stop looking at him. "I have to be going soon," he said, settling at the breakfast bar as Arthur set about making a coffee. "Thank you all so much for a wonderful day," he said then, addressing the children and not seeming to notice that they were hovering in a line beside Arthur.

Arthur turned and nodded at Florence and the three of them burst into song. "Happy birthday to you..." and Merlin ducked his head into his arms, embarrassed. When he looked up again there was a cake on the bar in front of him—mostly made by Libby with supervision from Mary. In the middle was a lone candle.

"Make a wish," Libby said. "But you can't tell us what it is cos it won't come true if you do."

Merlin stared at the candle before glancing over at Arthur, catching him staring again. "Right," he said. "A wish." He took a deep breath and blew out the candle leaving a wisp of black smoke heading skywards.

"We got you a present as well!" Theo burst out, running over to the dresser and pulling out a thin package. "It was my idea," he said proudly.

"You didn't have to do that," Merlin protested, but he took the present off Theo and made a show of shaking it by his ear. "Hmmm."

"Open it silly!" Libby pushed.

"I never just open a present," Merlin said. "I have to guess what it is first." He closed a palm over both sides of the package and his eyes widened. "Oh my God. Arthur, you—"

"Just open it, Merlin," Arthur said, wondering if Merlin really had guessed the contents. He supposed that the box shape was a giveaway if you knew what you were looking for.

Merlin tore at the paper and the Apple iPad box was revealed. "Arthur—" Merlin said again. "It's too much."

"Consider it a bonus for your hard work."

"I—" Merlin turned the box over in his hands, running a finger over the logo. "Okay. Thank you all. It's just what I wanted." He placed it on the top in front of him and hopped off the stool to hug each of the children in turn. When it came to Arthur he moved as though he was about to hug him and then seemed to think better of it and stepped back, shoving his hands awkwardly in his pocket. "Shall we have some cake?"

Arthur turned away and fiddled with the coffee machine, bitter disappointment coursing through him that Merlin had backed away from hugging him even though he knew he had brought it on himself.

**: o : o :**

Arthur's first day at the conference in Dublin, coming on top of the tiring day before, was exhausting and Arthur welcomed his hotel bed with open arms that night, eating room service before calling home to check everything was okay. Theo answered and Arthur talked to all three of the children before getting to Merlin. Merlin reassured him that everything was alright, and reminded him that his friends were coming over the following night, and had Arthur remembered to check with Morgana that he was happy with that?

Arthur had completely forgotten to call her about it. "I'll do that now and send you a text," he said. "Then I'm sleeping lest I doze off in the middle of something important tomorrow."

"Thanks, Arthur. Sleep well," Merlin said before hanging up. Arthur stared down at the phone blankly for a moment then remembered Morgana.

She answered on the first ring. "I can't wait to come home this weekend," she said without saying hello. "I miss the children, I miss my own bed—I even miss you, Arthur."

"Love you too," Arthur replied drily. "Had enough then?"

"Hmmm. Yes, the novelty has worn off." There was a dainty sigh. "You don't usually call me on a Monday, is everything okay?"

"I'm in Dublin actually, at that conference."

"You've left Merlin with the kids?"

"Yes—they adore him." They weren't the only ones. "That was what I wanted to talk to you about. Not Merlin but his friends Percy and Freya. Merlin wants them to come round to study tomorrow night and suggested I check with you to reassure myself they're safe to have around the children—he's just had to remind me."

"I'm surprised you don't take Merlin's word for it."

"I wanted to but—"

"I understand." There was a brief pause. "Freya's a doll; you've got no worries there. Nice quiet girl, huge crush on Merlin's other flat mate Will but there's no accounting for taste."

Arthur had never heard of Will. In fact, he didn't know the name of any of Merlin's flatmates.

He didn't know Merlin at all really, did he?

"As for Percy—again, there's nothing to be worried about there. He's something of a gentle giant. It's adorable how he's so besotted with Merlin."

Arthur's safe vision of Percy Thrower, ageing gardener, went hurtling out of the window. "He's Merlin's boyfriend?" he croaked.

"There's _something_ there. Merlin does go either way after all and he would have to be blind if he didn't return Percy's affections, because, I'm not lying Arthur when I tell you that even I would tap him if he wasn't my student."

"Morgana!"

Arthur could almost see her shrugging. "Nothing wrong with a healthy—"

"Okaaaaay," Arthur interrupted quickly. "I'll tell Merlin it's fine to have them round."

He finished the call and sat on the edge of the bed feeling sick. Fucking Percival. All this time and Merlin had a boyfriend..? But if he did, why hadn't Merlin spent his birthday with him? And why had he kissed Arthur?

His mind whirring with hurt confusion he quickly text Merlin: _it's fine for tomorrow _and stomped into the bathroom for a shower.

**: o : o :**

The following evening—after a hellish day where all he could think about was Merlin and _Percy—_Arthur rang home and spoke to the children, telling Theo that he didn't need to speak to Merlin, then he texted Merlin to say to call him if he needed him. He didn't hear anything. Arthur went down to the hotel bar after an unappetising bowl of pasta from room service and ordered a whisky. This would be when he would usually let someone pick him up and he'd take them back to his room or vice versa and enjoy a few hours of no-strings sex. God knew he needed that. How long had it been now? Since the last conference he'd attended—when—last autumn?

After twenty minutes or so a man approached, tall, sandy haired, obviously toned under the suit he was wearing and asked, "Can I get you another?" and Arthur was sorely tempted. He could lose himself in this bloke for a few hours, fuck him, be fucked, whatever, forget about his inappropriate affections for his employee...

"I—" he began and just then his phone beeped and Arthur couldn't help but glance down to find a message from Merlin with a picture of him and the children in the garden with the words: _we all miss you_. He looked up again at the man and smiled ruefully. "No thank you."

The man nodded, a sad smile crossing his lips. "Wife?" he asked, nodding at Arthur's phone. It was then that Arthur noticed the man's own wedding ring.

He was about to say no, but he glanced back down at the photograph and said, "Something like that."

**: o : o :**

The conference wound up earlier than planned on the Thursday due to the last speaker being taken ill with tonsillitis so Arthur managed to get on an earlier flight home. As it was, he'd long since missed dinner when he got home and the children were all in bed. As he usually did, Arthur went straight upstairs to check on the children, figuring Merlin would be in the living room at the coffee table as he usually was. Instead Arthur found out to his horrified delight when after sticking his head into the children's rooms and finding them all sleeping he went back downstairs and into the living room to find Merlin sprawled out on the sofa, the iPad face down on his flat stomach, fast asleep.

God, he looked so young—like the eighteen Arthur had first assumed he would be when Morgana had first mentioned him—had that really only been a couple of months ago? Arthur could barely remember what life had been like _before._

Not wanting to wake Merlin, Arthur fetched a blanket from the airing cupboard and placed it gently over him, taking the iPad and placing it on the coffee table. He went into the kitchen to prepare some food for himself; one measly packet of peanuts on the flight hours ago didn't exactly satisfy.

Arthur had just finished a bowl of soup when he heard the door open behind him and Merlin mumble, "What time is it?"

Arthur turned to watch him shuffle into the room, rubbing his eyes, his hair sticking out all over the place. "Well, if it isn't sleeping beauty," Arthur teased, thinking how much he'd like to reach out and ruffle Merlin's hair. "A few days on your own with my children has that effect on the best of us."

"I was up working on my project until three last night," Merlin said, sliding into the stool opposite Arthur's. "Florence had to wake _me_ up this morning!" He shifted guiltily.

Arthur laughed. "She does that to me too. She's got a sensible head on her shoulders has that one."

Merlin groaned and rolled his shoulders. "They're all good kids."

Arthur knew that, but hearing it from someone else—from Merlin—made him fill with pride. "I hope they stay that way when they hit their teens," he said. "I have it so good now that it's bound to go horribly wrong at some point."

"I was a goody two-shoes teenager," Merlin confessed. "Really uncool, into gardening and history, a proper geek. The one time I rebelled and played hooky from school I spent the whole day so stressed about it that I didn't enjoy myself at all. Will still takes the piss out of me for that."

"Will—he's your flatmate?"

Merlin nodded, looking around, his eyes landing on the coffee machine. "Coffee?"

"Please." Arthur waited, hoping Merlin was going to tell him about Will.

"Yeah, Will's my best mate—we were inseparable when we were kids even though he's nearly three years older than me. His mother was a bit of a waste of space and his dad wasn't around and Mum sort of adopted him really. Then when he got thrown out on his sixteenth birthday he moved in—of course by then I was living with Gaius, but he never minded—said there was no way he'd see Will on the streets." Merlin flipped a switch on the machine and it made an unhealthy sounding grinding noise, spluttered and then produced two streams of coffee into the espresso cups Merlin had placed underneath. Arthur was impressed he could get the thing to work at all, it had taken him months to master, and he'd only persevered because it had been a gift from Morgana and it was easier to learn how to use it than incur her wrath.

"What does Will do for a living?" Arthur asked, genuinely interested.

Merlin placed a mug of froth down in front of Arthur. "Works in a pub. His dedication to studying was not on a par with mine—hence his fondness for skiving school. I had my mum to encourage me from the start, Will never had that." He took a sip of his own concoction. "I think he'll end up running his own pub one day, he's got the right kind of personality for it—you know, good with people, funny, flirty."

"He sounds like quite a character."

"Yes. He certainly is."

"You've got other housemates though don't you?" After realising the other day that he hardly knew Merlin at all, Arthur felt the need to close the gap.

"Yes, two more—Freya and Gilli. You know about Freya—and Gilli's at the uni as well only he studies physics." Merlin yawned, covering his mouth with his hand. "Ugh, I suppose I'd better get going."

"You're exhausted," Arthur said. "You might as well stay. I've got tomorrow off so I'll take the children to school."

Merlin's gaze settled on him and for a moment Arthur thought he would refuse. "Okay, thanks," he said. "That bed is extremely comfortable."

Arthur's brain helpfully supplied him with a vision of Merlin in bed. "That's settled then," he said too quickly. "I think I'll turn in too. Flying wears me out."

**: o : o :**

When Arthur came back from taking the children to school, Merlin's van was gone and Mary was stripping the sheets from his bed and tunelessly humming 'Could it be magic?' when Arthur went upstairs to fetch his swimming trunks. He swam fifty lengths before giving himself a break and showering. He then made a couple of phone calls and arranged to meet Lance and Leon for lunch. He wasn't very good when he had time on his hands—he wasn't used to it.

That night he took the children to Gwaine's and watched Theo kick Gwaine's arse at Mario Cart. Morgana was due back the following day and that night, the Saturday, Arthur had had a date lined up, something he'd arranged last weekend but on impulse he cancelled it. There was something about Lamia Hunter's photograph that gave Arthur the creeps and after the last few disasters he couldn't face it. Besides, he needed a week off from dating and loath though he was to admit it—he really wanted to see Morgana. He'd missed her.

When Merlin appeared at six the following night Arthur realised he'd forgotten to tell him he wasn't going on a date that night.

"I think the least Arthur can do is feed you now that he's dragged you out here, Merlin," Morgana said, appearing behind Arthur in the front doorway—Merlin had a key but never used it when Arthur was home—she stepped past Arthur, kissed Merlin's cheek, took his hand, leading him inside. Merlin grinned at Arthur and shrugged as he was guided into the kitchen.

"It's alright, really," he protested. "I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. Isn't that right, Arthur?"

Arthur was staring at Morgana's hand where it was wrapped around Merlin's wrist, trying to tamp down the irrational jealousy at the contact. He answered on autopilot, "Of course you're not intruding, Merlin. You're always welcome here."

He pulled his attention back to find two pairs of eyes watching him curiously, one set blue, one green.

"Arthur's cancelled his date for tonight because he knows spending the evening with me is much more fun." Morgana finally let go of Merlin's wrist and made her way over to the counter to pick up the stack of take-away menus she'd liberated from the drawer. "Chinese, Indian or Thai?"

"Indian," both Arthur and Merlin chorused.

"Indian it is," Morgana said, opening a drawer and shoving the other menus back inside. "I'll go and round up the kids to order what they want." She disappeared in the direction of the hall leaving Arthur with nowhere to look other than at Merlin; Merlin who was far too close for Arthur's comfort.

"Why'd you cancel your date?" Merlin asked, too close—far, far too close.

_So gorgeous_. Arthur shook the thought out of his head.

"What did you just say?" Merlin blinked. "Did you just say I was gorgeous?"

_Fuck_. "No."

"No—you did."

Arthur wanted the floor to open and swallow him whole.

Until Merlin stepped in closer and suddenly there was a hand on his hip and another curling around the back of his neck and Merlin was there, his lips closing over Arthur's and his thoughts went wild with, 'finally', 'oh fuck', 'oh God, and 'I'm doomed' all whirling around in his brain because it was everything he'd wanted for so long, Merlin's hands on his skin, his lips on his again, his breath warm and sweet and Arthur felt himself begin to harden like he was a schoolboy and not a grown thirty-something.

Just as soon as it began than it was gone, and Arthur spluttered in protest, realising belatedly that the reason Merlin had pulled back was because Morgana and his children were now out in the hall and heading towards them. He hastily positioned himself behind the breakfast bar to hide the bulge in his jeans. Merlin didn't move, and Arthur didn't dare glance at his crotch to see if he was similarly affected.

Their timing really was atrocious.

Arthur spent the rest of the evening in some kind of awkward hell whereby he couldn't look at Merlin, and only felt capable of speaking in three words sentences. Morgana, Merlin and the children all seemed capable of coherency, but not him. He was too busy turning everything over in his head. Leon's words from a couple of weeks ago—Arthur's 'baggage', Merlin's age, baggage, age, ethics, baggage, baggage, baggage! Then he got angry at himself—his children weren't baggage for fuck's sake. They were the most important people in the world to him, they were the reason he'd gone on when Helen had died—he loved them more than he'd ever thought it possible to love another person. How could they be baggage? Yet—Merlin had his whole life ahead of him. Not that Arthur thought he was over the hill himself, not by any means, but Merlin was vibrant and alive and probably wanted to travel the world and visit the pyramids and swim with the dolphins. Didn't he?

Merlin was saying goodnight by the time Arthur snapped out of it. He didn't look at Arthur as he kissed Morgana's cheek and waved farewell to the children. Arthur had felt his gaze on him earlier on, but when he'd refused to return it Merlin had probably given up.

"Okay kids, time for bed," Morgana said, shooing them out of the living room and shooting Arthur a warning glare. "You—stay there."

Arthur slumped back against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes, waiting for her return and the sharp words he knew would follow in her wake.

She did not disappoint. "What the hell are you playing at, Arthur?" She paced the length of the room before swinging round and coming to stand in front of him. "What have you done to Merlin?"

"I haven't done anything," Arthur started, knowing it was fruitless to lie to his sister, she always knew when he was fibbing; another one of her annoying talents. "He kissed me—and it wasn't the first time either."

"Oh, Arthur," she said sadly, her eyes taking on a knowing glint. "You've fallen for him."

Arthur crossed his arms in front of his chest and stared at the vase on the mantelpiece like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

Morgana sighed and sat down beside him. "If he kissed you, Arthur, he obviously likes you. You know, people do that sometimes—you're a likeable person."

"It was a mistake—both times—I should have stopped him," Arthur said, the fist around his heart contracting painfully. "It's all just a chemical reaction in my brain anyway. It's not real."

"Arthur—it's as real as you make it."

**: o : o :**


	4. Chapter 4 of 4

**: o : o :**

Arthur buried himself in work the following day after ringing Gwen and asking if she'd mind taking the children out for the day—knowing that she'd have already talked to Morgana, that nothing was sacred. He needed time to think.

He didn't expect Merlin to show up around noon, rocking on his heels on Arthur's front doorstep. Arthur stared at him, no closer to a solution for the mess despite his morning of contemplation, than he had been the night before. "Come in," he finally said, holding the door open for him to pass.

"Where are the children?" Merlin asked, looking around him as though they might just jump out of a cupboard shouting 'boo!' at any moment.

"They're with Gwen for the day," Arthur said and Merlin nodded.

"So there's no one else here?"

Arthur should have recognised the warning signs, but he didn't, he wasn't used to having to, he supposed—but Merlin said, "Right, that's good," and before Arthur could blink, Merlin was kissing him, and God, it felt good. The tingle of his lips from the night before, the one that had still reminded him that he'd kissed Merlin then, returned in full force and he groaned, his hands coming around to cup Merlin's arse even as Merlin spun him somehow and backed him up against the wall.

Merlin pressed into Arthur, one leg between Arthur's thighs and Arthur could feel the rigid line of his cock beneath the tight confines of his jeans, digging insistently into Arthur's thigh. Arthur couldn't think, couldn't breathe, as Merlin claimed his mouth, one hand in Arthur's hair and the other on his neck, stroking the soft skin behind his ear.

"Merlin—" Arthur managed, pulling back, "We shouldn't be doing this." Even as he spoke the voice in his head screamed at him to be silent.

"Why not?" Merlin asked and pulled Arthur back in again. "I've thought of nothing else since—"

Arthur cut him off as the part of him that thought this was a bad idea fought with the rest of him that thought it was a fan-fucking-tastic idea and lost. Arthur kissed Merlin then, pushed into his mouth, spinning him, walking him backwards to the living room door, hands sliding under the cover of Merlin's t-shirt over smooth warm skin that felt so good against his hands.

He couldn't remember getting there, but when he hit the back of his legs on the sofa he went down, Merlin crawling onto his lap and straddling him, hands breaching his waistband, his cock being freed from prison of his jeans, Merlin moving to the floor and settling between Arthur's legs and taking the head of his cock in his mouth, tentative at first and then, looking up at Arthur with wide eyes—pupils so dilated that there was barely any blue left—taking Arthur in with greater confidence. Merlin wrapped a firm hand around the base of Arthur's cock and squeezed gently before taking the full length of him into his throat. "Merlin!" Arthur rasped as a hand found its way into his hair and the other tracing a circle on the side of his cheek near his ear. Merlin pulled back and looked up at Arthur again and that was all it took—Arthur exploded into his mouth, coming embarrassingly fast like it was his first time, his hips bucking up off the sofa—and the voice he could hear, "Oh God, oh God, oh God," was him.

Merlin licked him clean and sat back on his heels, one hand on each of Arthur's knees and scanned his face. Arthur groaned and closed his eyes, his head falling back against the back of the sofa. "Fucking hell, Merlin," he said, barely hearing his own words over the thundering of his heart. "Fucking hell."

Merlin clambered back up again, one leg on either side of Arthur's thighs and leant forwards to kiss Arthur lazily, before pulling back and regarding him with a half-smile. Through hazed narrowed eyes Arthur belatedly realised Merlin was still hard—he'd managed to release his own cock from his jeans and it stood long and proud from a thatch of dark curls. Arthur's mouth watered. "Here," he said. "Up." He wrapped his hands around Merlin's elbows and encouraged him up off Arthur's lap so that his cock was bobbing dangerously close to Arthur's lips.

"Please," Merlin said, swaying forwards slightly. "I need—"

Arthur swept the tip of his tongue over the head of Merlin's cock, tasting him there for the first time. He looked up at Merlin who was staring down at him with wonder in his eyes. "You're gorgeous," he said, repeating the words from the night before that he'd denied ever speaking. Once said, he went to work, working his tongue over Merlin's length, swallowing him down, relishing the feel of Merlin's hands threading into his hair and almost yanking a fistful out when Arthur pulled off him and paid homage to the underside of the head having worked out that Merlin liked it when he did that. He pulled off. "Fuck." His jaw ached and his eyes felt watery—Merlin was bigger than he'd expected. He took a deep breath and went back in, letting Merlin fuck his mouth until he felt the beginning of Merlin's orgasm in the way that Merlin's fingers still in his hair, how his breathing sped up and the length of his cock rippled. He wanted Merlin to spill into his mouth, wanted to swallow every last drop if his seed until Merlin was begging to be released from the torture. He yanked on the waistband of Merlin's jeans and pulled them down to his knees and gently he parted Merlin's cheeks, pushing on finger closer, enough to just ghost over the sensitive skin of his hole—it was enough and Merlin came with a shout of Arthur's name.

Arthur drank him down, resisting the urge to fist his own cock—he was hard again already like he was still Merlin's age.

"Jeez, Arthur," Merlin wheezed, settling back on Arthur's lap. "You're insatiable." Arthur watched him as he stared hungrily at Arthur's renewed arousal, blinked, and reached for him. Arthur's reaction was embarrassing considering he'd only recently come once—a few strokes of Merlin's hand and he was doing so again, firing his come up between both of them.

They were a sticky mess.

Merlin dropped his head into the crook of Arthur's shoulder and laughed. "I needed that."

Arthur stroked his hands over Merlin's lower back and waited for his breathing to return to normal, horrified reality seeping into his bones as his heart rate returned to something resembling normal. Gently he eased Merlin off his lap to the sofa at the side of him and tucked himself away, pretending for a moment that he wasn't covered in sweat and come.

"This can't happen again," he began, tucking his trembling hands under his arms. "It's not what I want."

Merlin was silent for what felt like hours to Arthur, but could only really have been minutes. "Not what you _want_?" he said yanking his jeans back up. "It looked to me like you wanted it pretty badly a few minutes ago."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Look, Merlin, you're a great kid—and—"

"I'm not a kid!" Merlin lurched to his feet then, rounding on Arthur, his eyes flashing with anger. "I'm twenty-two! I'm more than old enough to know what I want!"

"Yes, well, so am I and it's not this."

"You utter arsehole." Merlin reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out his keys. "I won't waste anymore of your valuable time then, _Dr_ Pendragon—it's my day off after all." He walked slowly towards the door, stopping when he got there to say, "You're going to have to fire me if you don't want to see me again, otherwise I'll pick the kids up from school tomorrow as usual."

With that he was gone.

Arthur closed his eyes. "Fuck." The front door clicked closed and the loud engine of the VW fired up. "Fuck it all."

He'd done it now hadn't he? He'd given in to the temptation that had been thrumming in his veins since Merlin walked into his life less than two months ago and with that one mistake he'd ruined everything. Merlin had said Arthur would have to fire him if he didn't want to see him again—Arthur felt sick. He'd hurt Merlin and he'd hurt himself and what for—a few minutes of the most intense pleasure he could ever remember? Was it worth it?

Merlin would be okay though, Arthur was sure of that. He was young, and yes, he had a thing for Arthur, maybe even fancied himself in love with him, but Arthur _knew_ that there was no such thing as romantic love. His marriage had been based on friendship and affection, his dalliances had been based on convenience and at times, lust—these feelings he was having for Merlin, they were just a combination of those, chemicals mixing in his brain and trying to convince him that there was more to it, that this was 'love'.

Merlin was his employee. A temporary fixture in his life—Arthur had no illusions that Merlin would always need this job with him; he only had the time for it now because he was a student. It was already bad enough that his children had formed such an attachment to him—Arthur hadn't worried too much about that as it was a fact of life that children needed to learn. People come and go. The only constant is family. Merlin wasn't family, and if Arthur started a relationship with him, the children would be even more hurt when it didn't work out after a while when Merlin realised he'd bitten off more than he could chew with Arthur and his brood.

Arthur took himself upstairs for a shower and a change of clothes. When he was done, he leafed through the print outs of the women the kids had chosen for him and selected the only one of them that already had children of her own, one Elena Jones. That was what he should have done from the start.

**: o : o :**

Elena was utterly charming. She was a little clumsy, and she looked ever-so-slightly dishevelled; but then she was a mother of three herself, and she didn't have the help that Arthur did. Her husband had left her when she was pregnant for the second time, and that pregnancy had produced identical twin boys.

"I don't hate him," Elena said, helping herself to a chip from Arthur's plate. "Well, maybe a little, but only for the kids' sake—he never bothers with them, but he's a devoted father to his new wife's son from her previous relationship. I don't understand that, do you?" She stole another chip.

"No, I have to say I don't. I can't imagine not being involved in my children's lives."

"Wow, we've got _six_ between us. If we get past this first date and this becomes something more, we're going to have our work cut out!"

Arthur liked her. He _did_. He could see himself enjoying her company, of being a family of sorts—maybe she was the one for him, the one who he could be content with? He shoved the image of Merlin that sprang up back out of his head, so, so unwelcome. "You never know," he said and then impulsively added, "I like you, Elena. Why don't you bring your three over to mine on tomorrow? I've got an indoor swimming pool," he glanced woefully at the vista outside the restaurant window. It had been raining non-stop all week.

"Thank you, Arthur, I accept," Elena said, grinning happily. Her eyes left his and landed on his plate. "Have you finished with those?"

Arthur nudged his plate towards her. He's barely eaten anything, he'd lost his appetite completely since his encounter with Merlin. "Help yourself."

When they left the restaurant Arthur saw Elena safely into a taxi before hailing one himself. He'd not driven this time—he'd wanted to have a couple of drinks, hoping that that would out him in a better frame of mind to enjoy this date. In the end he'd only had a couple of glasses of white wine from the bottle they'd shared, and it felt like it was curdling in the pit of his stomach. It probably was.

Morgana was curled up on the sofa with the cat in her lap watching some rom-com or other when Arthur got home. "Kids alright?" he asked, flopping down in the armchair opposite.

Morgana paused the DVD and peered over at Arthur. "You look terrible," she said. "Why don't you go and check on them and I'll put the kettle on?"

Arthur, on autopilot, stood again and went upstairs, sticking his head into three bedrooms and smiling at the sight of three peacefully sleeping children. He hoped they'd have fun tomorrow when Elena came over with her three—his were reasonably well behaved kids, but who knew what Elena's were like and if they would even get on with the three younger Pendragons.

"How was it?" Morgana asked when Arthur joined her in the kitchen.

Arthur filled her in, telling her about the impending visit tomorrow. "She sounds nice enough," Morgana said, placing a steaming mug of coffee on the counter next to Arthur. Arthur hovered a hand over the top of it enjoying the warmth from the steam. "You don't have to do this anymore you know."

"What? You instigated this whole bloody farce in the first place!"

Morgana sighed. "I know. But, Merlin—"

Arthur pushed back from the counter. "I'm not having this conversation!" He picked up his cup of coffee. "Either we return to the living room and watch the rest of whatever it was that you were watching or you go home and I drink this in peace and then take myself to bed so I'm up nice and early tomorrow to prepare for my guests."

There was a reason why Morgana was here looking after the kids tonight and not Merlin. Arthur hadn't asked him. He wasn't sure how he could. Merlin had picked up the children from school as usual all week, stayed with them until Arthur got home, and politely updated him about anything that had happened with them before making a hasty retreat. Arthur hadn't made any attempt at further conversation, following Merlin's lead and keeping it all business like. It was for the best. Yet—he'd not mentioned his date to him, not asked him to come over and mind the children whilst he went out with Elena.

It had been a week of pure torture.

"I can't be dealing with you when you're like this!" Morgana huffed. "I'm going home—I've seen that film before anyway."

"Morgana—"

She fixed him in her gaze then, pinning him to the spot with that way she had, making him squirm. "Save it."

Arthur was still standing in that same spot in the kitchen twenty minutes later, staring blankly at nothing, the coffee now cold beside him. He snapped himself out of it, poured the coffee in the sink and went to bed.

**: o : o :**

Sunday went well. Elena's three, Frank, Albert and Edward, were delightful children—well as delightful as children could be when playing rowdy games of tag in the swimming pool.

Before they left for the day Arthur kissed Elena's cheek and said, "Will you let me take you to dinner on Wednesday night?" and was pleased when she smiled her agreement. Arthur had a good feeling about her. She was sweet, funny and she was good with his children.

Libby had whispered her approval earlier when she'd swam over to Arthur in the pool, "She's nice, Daddy," and Theo had made it known it would be quite alright with him to have the three boys over to play again, which to Arthur was approval. Florence hadn't said anything, preferring to sit at on a lounger at the side and read a book rather than join in—but as she was the oldest one there Arthur hadn't pushed her.

"Are you seeing Elena again?" she asked him over dinner that evening and when Arthur nodded and said, yes, he was seeing her on Wednesday she'd looked at him intently and said, "You should follow your heart, Dad," and Arthur hadn't thought any more of that until later when he was in bed, his mind reeling with the events of the last week.

_Follow your heart_. He wasn't sure he knew what that meant.

**: o : o :**

Arthur had no other choice than to ask Merlin to sit for the children on Wednesday night—there was no way he was asking Morgana after the way she had left him on Saturday. He knew he could ask Gwen or Leon but—they would only want to know why he wasn't asking Merlin and Arthur wasn't ready for that conversation. He'd asked Merlin on Monday night, making sure to tell him it would be his third date with Elena. Merlin had shrugged, said, "Whatever you want," and left leaving Arthur feeling like he'd been caught kicking puppies.

He got home from work early and found Merlin and the children in the kitchen doing homework. "What time are you picking up Elena?" Libby asked as soon as he walked in, jumping up to greet him with a hug. "Where are you taking her?"

"One question at time," Arthur said, chancing a glance at Merlin who was watching him with a blank expression. When their eyes met Merlin looked away quickly. "I'm meeting her at the restaurant at seven," Arthur said.

"What time do you think you will be home?" Merlin asked, not looking up from the textbook in front of him.

"I don't know—do you have somewhere to be?"

Merlin looked up again. "No. I'm just making polite conversation."

Arthur swallowed. His traitorous heart had sped up the moment he'd entered the room and seen Merlin sitting there, now it was pounding in his chest so loudly Arthur felt as though Metallica had set up residence. "I'll try to be home by half ten."

Merlin nodded. "Do you mind if Percy comes over—we've got a presentation tomorrow and we could do with running over it a few times."

_Yes, I fucking mind_. "I don't mind," he lied, loosening his tie. "I'll just go and grab a shower."

He made his way upstairs slowly, stripping off his suit and tossing it onto his bedroom floor. He should be looking forward to his date tonight. Instead all he could think of was the flash of hurt in Merlin's eyes when he'd been asking about Elena. Arthur had liked it, in the moment before reality had set in earlier, when he'd arrived home to Merlin and the children, had thought that he'd love to come home every day to that.

"There's something wrong with you, Pendragon," he told himself as he stepped under the hot jets of the shower. "You can't have him."

**: o : o :**

After his evening with Elena, Arthur pecked her on the cheek and invited her over for drinks on Saturday night—it was his birthday and he was having a few people over as he did every year. "I'd love to, Arthur," she said. "Just me or me and the terrors?"

"All four of you," Arthur said. "Theo will be in heaven."

He watched until the taxi was out of sight and went to find his car. He checked his watch—it was only nine thirty.

All he'd been able to think about throughout the duration of his date with Elena was Merlin—and Percy—alone in Arthur's house, at least alone once the children went to bed. He shouldn't have been surprised that he got pulled over on the way home. "You were eight miles over the speed limit," the police officer said and breathalysed Arthur. Arthur grimaced and apologised. He didn't think his excuse 'I couldn't bear the thought of Percy's hands on Merlin' would hold up in court.

Arthur's on the spot fine wound up on the passenger seat for the remainder of his journey home, as he stuck carefully to the speed limit, taunting him. When he finally got home, he attempted a stealthy approach, like he wanted to torture himself with what he might find on the other side of the living room door, his imagination stepping into overdrive, of Merlin and Percy kissing, Merlin and Percy running their hands over each other, Merlin and Percy making love, Merlin and Percy—

Merlin was alone in the living room. "Where's your friend?" Arthur asked immediately, as though he was hiding behind the sofa ready to jump out and say, 'ha, you thought I had gone' before pulling Merlin into his lap.

"He left about half an hour ago," Merlin said, watching Arthur with narrowed eyes. "How was the date?"

"Um, yeah, good," Arthur said automatically. The truth was, he couldn't remember anything about it. He'd been there, but only in body. He knew he'd invited Elena over for his birthday thing, but that was about it. "She's great."

"I'm sure she is."

Merlin stood and began to gather his things. Arthur watched, stuck inside his own head as he tried to formulate something to say, the easy banter they had shared before a distant memory now. "You know," Merlin said carefully when he'd hoisted his backpack over his shoulder and looked ready to go. "I hate this." He waved a hand between them both. "I hate that it's awkward. I...miss how it was between us before we... Can we just forget it? I get that you don't want me, like _that_, but I never wanted this."

Arthur wanted to cry. Merlin looked so young as he shifted awkwardly in front of him—he _is_ young, so young—and Arthur wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull him into a hug. He wanted to say, 'I do, I do want you, more than anything,' but something stopped him. What would that solve? They were just words. There was nothing behind them other than this ridiculous attraction to someone he couldn't have.

He was in a loop, caught in his own trap, and now he'd tasted Merlin... "Of course," he said. "I never wanted this either." He drew a deep breath. "I'm having a get together on Saturday night for my birthday. I'd like it if you could come. Morgana will be here and I know the children will like it if you're there."

"Yeah," Merlin said. "Thanks, I'd like that."

**: o : o :**

"She's very pretty," Merlin said when he joined Arthur by the window towards the end of the evening. Arthur had successfully avoided being alone with him until then, even if he had had considerably less success in losing his awareness of where Merlin was at all times.

"She is," Arthur replied and it was the honest truth. Elena was even blonder than he was and there was something about her that drew people in. There wasn't a person in the room who hadn't been charmed by her. Helen had been just the same. Everyone had loved her too. "Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Ready to admit you only invited me so I would keep an eye on the children yet?" Merlin's tone was light but his smile didn't meet his eyes. "I've spent all evening performing magic tricks to keep them entertained seeing as the pool is out of bounds."

"I admit no such thing. Is it my fault that you enjoy playing with—"

"Hello," Elena appeared beside Merlin stopping Arthur mid-sentence. "I'm Elena. I thought I'd introduce myself seeing as Arthur here is such a terrible host." Elena winked at Merlin. "You must be Merlin—my children are singing your praises."

Merlin blushed. "Yes, I'm Merlin." He held out his hand and offered it to Elena. "Child-minder extraordinaire." His voice was flat, and even though his smile was friendly, it was still only there for show. He glanced at Arthur quickly. "Um—I was about tell Arthur that I'm leaving. So—it was nice to meet you, Elena. Arthur, I'll see you on Monday as usual."

"Yes. Thanks for coming," Arthur said, watching as Merlin nodded and picked his way across the room to talk to Morgana, the both of them turning to look at Arthur before Merlin kissed Morgana on the cheek and vanished through the door. As the door closed behind him Arthur felt as though all the joy was being sucked from the room. "Er, I just remembered there's something I need to tell Merlin about Monday," Arthur said, watching the door. "I'll just see if I can catch him before he goes."

He heard Elena say, 'Okay," as he hastened away. He pushed through to the hallway and out of the front door as though he was being pursued by a pack of rabid dogs. There was no sign of Merlin when Arthur scanned the driveway, but his van was still there so Arthur headed towards it. He had no idea what he was going to say, he just knew he couldn't let Merlin leave without... Without _what_?

He heard him then, his voice drifting across towards him in the darkness. "...no, I'll come to yours it's fine. I just need—yes—that sounds perfect. No—that's behind me now. I'm okay, I told you. You were right." The enticing sound of Merlin's laughter made Arthur's heart contract. "I bet you say that to all the boys. You just want to get me naked!"

Arthur's stomach dropped suddenly feeling as though he was listening to a very private conversation.

Merlin was laughing again. "The almond oil please—it's my favourite."

Arthur turned abruptly and went back into the house. He sidestepped the party and went downstairs into the pool room to sit on the edge of one of the loungers. That was where Morgana found him half an hour later. She sat down beside him and wrapped an arm around him. Arthur wasn't sure whether to be grateful or embarrassed at her silent support. She knew, she always did, and when she wasn't trying to be awkward or to rile him up, she was perfectly attuned to him and could always give him what he needed. He dropped his head to her shoulder and said, "I've really fucked up."

She didn't reply.

**: o : o :**

After his birthday, time crawled by. Three weeks passed and Arthur felt as though he'd aged ten years.

Elena broke things off with him on their fifth date. "You're a lovely man, Arthur," she said gently, "And I've no doubt that we could be happy together and even be great friends—in fact I hope we can _still_ be friends—but there's nothing else. At least let us be honest."

Arthur knew she was right. "I hope you mean it when you say we should stay friends—Theo would never forgive me if Edward disappeared out of his life!" Theo had found a new best friend in Elena's son. When they weren't together they were playing X-Box games against each other over the internet. He took her hand and squeezed. "You'll be the perfect match for someone—I'm sorry that isn't me."

He _was_ genuinely sorry. Maybe if he'd met Elena six months ago things between them might have been different.

The following Saturday Arthur took Libby and Theo over to Elena's for the afternoon before dropping Florence at Jessica's for a sleepover. He went back home, feeling at a loose end. He sat at the breakfast bar in the kitchen and thumbed through the news on his phone, jumping in surprise when it rang, the name of the caller: _Merlin_.

"Hello?"

"Good afternoon, is this Dr Pendragon?" It was a deep authoritative masculine voice.

"Yes this is him," Arthur said, disappointment spiking in his veins when it wasn't Merlin's voice. Things had been tense these last few weeks—their truce such as it was bring nothing more than hollow words. Of course they couldn't return back to how they were. _Why wasn't it Merlin's voice?_ "Why are you calling on Merlin's phone?"

"Dr Pendragon, you are listed as Mr Emrys' ICE contact. My name is Dr Cooper. Mr Emrys has been in an accident."

Arthur felt the blood rush from his head and a terrifying wave of dizziness assuage him.

"Dr Pendragon?"

"Sorry, I'm still here. Is he..?"

"He's received a head injury and is unconscious. We believe—"

"Where is he?"

**: o : o :**

"I don't care how many times you say it, I'm not listening. You're coming to stay with me and that's all there is to it," Arthur said, avoiding Merlin's eyes and focussing on the plaster cast on his lower right arm.

Merlin could have _died_.

"I'll be fine—"

"Mary will never forgive me if she misses this chance to fuss over you," Arthur said, knowing it to be the truth. Mary still thought the sun shone out of Merlin's behind. "Neither would Libby."

When Libby had learned Merlin was in hospital she'd cried herself sick until Arthur agreed to bring her in to sit with him at Merlin's bedside. Merlin had suffered a head injury, and although all of his vitals had been fine, Arthur wanted to be there when he woke up, to be the one to perform the checks on him—the consultant neurosurgeon at the hospital was an old friend of Arthur's from his medical school days and she had merely rolled her eyes at Arthur, saying that she was still going to check Merlin again afterwards telling him, "You're too emotionally involved, Arthur—and you know that's the easiest road to making a mistake."

Arthur had nodded and turned his attention back to Merlin, Libby curled in his lap, watching the rise and fall of Merlin's chest as he breathed. He was _alive._ Nothing else mattered.

When Merlin had finally woken after thirty-six hours of being unconscious, thin slivers of blue appearing as his sticky lids prised themselves open, Arthur had felt faint with relief. Merlin's life had never really been in danger, logically he knew that, but that hadn't stopped him from moving into the chair at Merlin's bedside and making use of Mary's good nature to look after the children.

"Arthur?" Merlin had whispered, his voice hoarse from dryness, his eyes opening wider and blinking into the light. They were so blue—Arthur had feared he might never see them again with the light of life behind them. "Where am I?"

"You had a run in with a car on a crossing," Arthur said trying to keep the mood light.

Merlin blinked again. "My head hurts."

Arthur had sprung into action, placing his sleeping daughter into the chair he vacated and calling for the nurse.

Apart from a broken wrist there was no serious damage, but Merlin still had to stay in for another forty-eight hours and then they would only release him into someone else's care. Arthur wouldn't entertain Merlin going anywhere other than home with him. "I'm a neurologist," Arthur had insisted. "What better care is there?"

Merlin had eventually stopped arguing, until now—now he was insisting he'd be fine going back to his own house. It was an argument Arthur would not let him win.

Mary had made up the room Merlin had slept in last time, and Arthur helped him up the stairs as he was a little unsteady on his feet. "You don't have to do this," Merlin protested, but sank down on top of the bed with a contented sigh anyway. "I'm so tired..."

"You sleep," Arthur ordered, manoeuvring the duvet from under Merlin and letting him wiggle underneath, pulling his shoes off before laying a gentle hand on his forehead. "Sleep and later Mary will make you some soup. Then tomorrow the visitors arrive." Arthur had taken advantage of being Merlin's ICE and pulled rank, not letting any of Merlin's friends in to see him at the hospital. It was selfish, he knew that, but Merlin hadn't asked for anyone in particular and Arthur had felt his protective and possessive sides rising within him. Whoever it was Merlin had been sleeping with...Arthur could put that out of his mind if he wasn't confronted with it head on.

Merlin closed his eyes and Arthur stayed there for a few minutes, watching him fall to sleep. His long lashes fanned his pale cheeks and his cheekbones were stark in the wake of the last few days and Merlin not eating as much as usual. He'd lost weight.

He was still the most beautiful man Arthur had ever seen.

When the weariness, a result of the stress of the last few days, suddenly struck him, Arthur didn't think about what he was doing when he climbed onto the bed next to Merlin, on top of the covers and closed his eyes. He'd just lie there for a few minutes until the fatigue passed...

"Daddy?"

Arthur groaned. "Huh?"

"Daddy, wake up!" A small hand reached out to shake him and blearily Arthur opened one eye to find Libby standing next to the bed, grinning happily.

He was alone on the bed, Merlin was no longer there. "Where's Merlin?" he asked, wondering what Merlin had thought when he'd woken up with Arthur asleep beside him. "What time is it?"

"It's dinner time," Libby said. "Merlin's having some soup but Mary says she wants you to come down and have some as well, otherwise she's going to come up and fetch you herself."

"Right," Arthur said, trying to move his heavy limbs. "I'd better do as I'm told then."

He swung his legs to the floor and pushed himself to his feet. "I'll just go to the bathroom, Lib, tell Mary I'll be there in a minute." He needed a couple of minutes to himself before he faced Merlin.

He walked slowly down the landing to his own bedroom and into the en-suite. When he was done he washed his hands and braced them on the edge of the sink as he stared at himself in the mirror. A bleary-eyed version of himself stared back at him. He looked old and tired—worse than he felt. He was fifteen years older than the person he loved. Fifteen.

"I don't believe in love," he told his reflection angrily, pushing the thought away and glaring at himself. Love was just something people made up to sell books and greetings cards and to excuse the stupid things that they do, to give it an excuse. "No such thing."

Mirror-Arthur looked back at him, his face sad. "Liar," he said. "You love him."

Arthur splashed his face with water and turned his back on his reflection. When he arrived downstairs he was hustled to the kitchen table where a steaming bowl of soup appeared in front of him. "Eat up, you look terrible," Mary instructed.

"I'm not the one who was hit by a car!" Arthur protested even as his stomach rumbled as the aroma of the soup hit his nostrils. He glanced over at Merlin who was watching with amusement.

"No, but you are the one who spent two days sitting in a chair in the hospital!" Mary crossed her arms over her ample bosom and Arthur knew better than to argue.

He picked up his spoon and waved it at Mary. "Here," he said, "I'm eating." He scooped out some soup and held it to his lips, blowing on it gently before taking a mouthful. Satisfied, Mary bustled over to the oven and left Arthur alone with Merlin.

"Why'd you stay at the hospital with me?" Arthur couldn't help but look up into Merlin's eyes.

The soup turned to straw in Arthur's mouth and he swallowed with difficulty before replying, "Why'd you list me as your Emergency Contact?"

Merlin flushed but didn't look away. "I don't have any family, Will'd panic and Morgana was away in Edinburgh. I forgot to change it back." He held Arthur's gaze and said, "Thank you for staying."

"No problem."

**: o : o :**

Merlin's friends started to arrive the following day. Freya, Gilli, Will...Percy. Arthur showed them all in to see Merlin and left them alone in the living room to give Merlin some privacy. Elena came over with her children and Arthur stayed downstairs with her to supervise the children in the pool, trying not to think about Merlin upstairs with who knew who—was Percy Mr Almond Oil?

"I bumped into Leon yesterday at the supermarket," Elena said with a rush of air. "I asked him out for a drink."

Arthur turned to her, surprised. "Oh."

"I really like him—he's such a gentleman. I mean—not that you're not, Arthur, but he's—I just—"

"Well, that's okay with me," Arthur said, knowing he had no claim on Elena and knowing he didn't want one! Actually, thinking about it, Leon and Elena were kind of perfect. "What did he say?"

Elena's face fell. "He said he couldn't because of you."

Ah Leon, always so noble. "He's a good friend. Let me give him a call." He got to his feet. "My phone is upstairs," he lied, thinking that just in case Leon was using Arthur as an excuse he didn't want to have the conversation in front of Elena.

As it turned out, no, Leon really _was_ being that noble. "Are you sure you don't mind?" he asked for the third time. "I would never..."

"She's a great girl, Leon—but I think you know that my heart was never in it."

Arthur ended the call advising Leon to call Elena the moment he texted her number through and he stuck his head into the living room to see if Merlin needed anything.

Merlin wasn't there. Arthur's brain immediately concluded that Merlin was upstairs with Percy, and now that Arthur had seen Percy in person, the images were both arousing and sickening. Percy was possibly the most perfect male specimen Arthur had ever seen—tall, built, good looking, friendly eyes, big hands…

Arthur back out of the room, panic building in his chest as the jealousy took hold. Merlin was _his_. He stared at the staircase, trying to stop his legs from carrying him up it at great speed and bursting into Merlin's room.

He forced his legs in the direction of the kitchen, slamming in through the door and leaning back against it, closing his eyes. "Get a fucking grip," he told himself. "There's no such thing."

"I just want to warn you that I'm here before you talk to yourself anymore," came Merlin's voice from the corner and Arthur's eyes flew open. Merlin was at the table, the local paper discarded next to him. His eyes were rimmed with red and he was as pale as parchment.

"I was wondering where you'd got to," Arthur said. Fucking understatement!

"Actually, I was waiting for you."

Arthur stepped forwards and walked closer to Merlin. "Do you need something?"

Merlin looked at him, eyes so blue, and unfurled his long limbs from where they had been curled beneath him, dislodging the cat who had been curled up on his lap, placing his feet on the floor. "I have to go home," he said, absently scratching at the edge of his plaster cast. "I—"

"Merlin, we've had this conversation. You—"

Something flashed in Merlin's eyes. "You're such a prick you know that?" he accused, his face suffusing with colour as he jumped to his feet. "I'm going home, and while we're at it—I quit!"

Arthur reeled back. "Merlin, what on earth is the matter?"

"You, you're the fucking_ matter_, Arthur!" Merlin stepped closer. "I thought I could do this, but I can't be around you."

"Merlin." Arthur's arms acted of their own volition in perfect co-ordination with his legs, stepping forwards and reaching out, closing his fingers around Merlin's skinny wrist. He yanked Merlin into him and crashed his lips to his, his shock turning to desire as Merlin whimpered into the kiss, parting his lips for Arthur, pressing the full length of his body against his. The blood pounded in Arthur's ears and something clicked into place. _I love you_. Arthur pulled back, "Merlin—"

"Shut up," Merlin said, leaning back in, and Arthur let himself be led, let Merlin curved his good hand around the globe of his arse, let him nibble his lower lip and pressing him back against the kitchen table. _I love you_.

It was the doorbell that roused Arthur from the heady cloud of arousal he'd been lost within. "Who the hell is that?" he groaned, stepping back. "I'm sorry…" He tore himself away, heading for the front door and yanking it open.

It was Percy. "Merlin called me back to come and fetch him," Percy said, glancing casually over Arthur's shoulder and scanning the room. "Is he ready?"

That was when Arthur noticed Merlin's rucksack next to the front door. "I'm here, Perce." Merlin appeared in the kitchen doorway behind Arthur. "Would you mind waiting in the car?"

Percy shrugged and picked up the backpack from the floor. "Don't be long," he said. "There's an almondy treat waiting for you back at yours!" With that, he hefted the bag over his should like it weighed nothing more than a bag of sugar and with a nod at Arthur, was gone.

"Are you sleeping with him?" Arthur burst out, rounding on Merlin, every inch of him aching with jealousy.

Merlin paled. "How can _you_ ask me that? You're the king of fucking double standards aren't you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you think that because I'm a lot younger than you that I'm stupid? You think that you can just pick me up and toss me aside at your leisure and I'll just pick myself up and dust myself off again and be totally fine? You think that I can't be in love with you? That you can use me to babysit whilst you go out with your _girlfriend_ and I'll just do as I'm told, that it doesn't kill me every second that I know you're with her?"

With perfect timing, Elena appeared from the downstairs staircase, several children hot on her heels. "There you are, Arthur, I was starting to worry!" She stood aside to let the children pass, a train of six trailing through the hall and heading upstairs. "Hello, Merlin, how are you feeling?"

Merlin's lips pursed. "Much better, thank you, Elena," he said through gritted teeth. "I have to go. Tell the kids—tell them I'm sorry."

He pushed past Arthur who, stunned, let him pass. Thirty seconds later an engine fired outside and Arthur knew it was too late.

"Oh my," Elena said. "I supposed that makes an odd kind of sense."

Arthur wasn't listening. _I love you_. _I love you_. _I love you_.

"Please tell me you're going after him?"

_I love you_.

**: o : o :**

Merlin lived in a two storey old terraced house near Camden, a typical late Victorian building with a bay window and stained glass above the front door. As Arthur waited for someone to answer the doorbell he took a moment to admire the front garden—it was all of six feet long and as wide as the house minus the footpath Arthur was currently standing on, but it was perfectly kept with not a weed in sight. He knew without having to ask that it was Merlin's doing.

When the front door finally opened to reveal Merlin, Arthur fell speechless. It had only been an hour since Merlin had left his house but it felt like far longer than that. Merlin's hair was sticking up at all angles and his feet were bare. "What do you want, Arthur?" he said when it became apparent that no words were about to fall from Arthur's lips.

"I—" Finally he found his voice and began to stammer like a teenager asking a girl on a first date. "C-can we talk?"

"You better come in," Merlin said, stepping back to allow Arthur to pass. He closed the door behind him and Arthur rocked back on his heels, unsure how to proceed. The front door had opened straight into a small sitting room, one sofa across the back wall, an original wrought iron fireplace in the centre. The chimney breast was flanked on each side by built in bookcases and in front of the one nearest the window was a television unit. It looked warm and cosy—loved.

"Is there anyone else here?" Arthur asked, not fancying an audience for what he was about to say.

"No, Freya and Gilli have both gone to the Karma Festival and won't be back until Monday. I—Percy didn't stay. It's just…me." Merlin ran a hand through his hair and said, "Have a seat."

Arthur sat. Merlin perched on the opposite end of the sofa and looked expectantly at Arthur. Merlin looked at him and then down at his hands, fiddled with the tiny hole in the knee on his jeans before placing crossing his arms to still nervous energy that was running through him. Arthur saw it all, saw how Merlin was trying to keep his expression neutral, how he was refusing to look at Arthur.

He saw the person he wanted to grow old with.

That scared the hell out of him and drew all of the coherency from his thought process. All he knew was that he couldn't leave here without telling Merlin the truth. He couldn't leave here without Merlin.

"I—" he began, his hands trembling with nerves. What he was about to say was the most important thing he might ever say in his whole life. Everything hinged on it. "Merlin—" But the words wouldn't come. They were stuck somewhere at the back of his throat like he was a teenage boy asking a girl out for the first time. "Screw it," he managed, moving down the cavernous space between them on the sofa and reaching for Merlin, cupping his hand around the back of Merlin's neck and pressing their lips together in the only language he seemed capable of at the present moment. Merlin resisted for a moment, his folded arms hugging his own frame like his life depended on holding himself in place, but as Arthur licked into his mouth, tasting the now familiar essence of him, Merlin relaxed beneath him and his good hand came up to card into Arthur's hair.

It was everything Arthur wanted—yet he needed to tell him, he couldn't let anything else happen between them until he'd said what he came to say—but the feel of Merlin's hands in his hair and his lips on his…the sounds of his breathing heavy in Arthur's already pounding ears. He pulled back, searching Merlin's eyes for something, anything that indicated what he was about to say would get him the response he wanted—_needed_. He found confusion, desire and, dare he think it, _hope_.

He felt spurred on to say, "I don't want to be wasting my time dating all these other people when you've been right in front of me the whole time. I don't want them, I want _you_." Finally he'd found the words. He could only hope that they were the right ones. Saying that out loud lifted a weight off Arthur's shoulders that he hadn't realised had been there until now.

"What about Elena?" Merlin's hand was still in Arthur's hair, twisting the downy growth nervously, and the fact that he hadn't spring away immediately bolstered Arthur's courage.

"That ended weeks ago—I should have told you, I didn't realise I hadn't." It had just been that things had been so tense between them despite them trying to pretend otherwise and they'd stopped _talking_.

"Who ended it?" Blue eyes fixed on his and Arthur never wanted to look away. He'd never be able to enjoy the sky or the sea again if Merlin turned him down—blue would never be the same again.

"She did—but it should have been me. I think I was hiding behind her because I couldn't face up to how I felt about you—I was scared. I've never felt like this about anyone—never knew it was possible to feel like this." He took Merlin's injured hand. "I want to be with you—but I don't just want a fling, Merlin, I want it all—and that's what scares me the most. I've got _three children_. I'm older than you. I'm tethered to London."

"That just sounds like a list of excuses," Merlin said. "And I don't care about any of it, Arthur. I adore your kids—I adore your cat!—I adore _you_. I don't give a rat's about how old you are, and—why do you think I have a problem with living in London? I've lived here my whole life and I plan on staying here. And for what it's worth, I'm not sleeping with Percy—there hasn't been anybody since I met you."

Arthur smiled. He couldn't help himself as the happiness welled up inside him and tried to burst free. "I love you," he said, surprising himself as the words spilled forth. He laughed and kissed Merlin again, leaning back and saying, "Merlin, would you do me the honour of going on a date with me?"

Merlin blinked and lowered his gaze and Arthur felt a moment of panic that he'd got it all wrong—until he smiled the smile that had caught Arthur in the first place, the one that sent his heart rate stuttering and produced a pleasant tugging sensation in his abdomen. "Finally," he said and pulled Arthur in for a kiss. "I'd like nothing more than to go on a date with you and— I love you too."

**: o : o :**

**If you'd like to leave me some feedback, that's be appreciated! :-D**

**If you want to see the art that accompanies this fic follow the link on my profile to my Live Journal and click on the tag for Blue Would Still Be Blue and you'll find a link to the artwork there. Highly recommended - the art is amazing!**


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